The Child of Light
by willy taveras
Summary: postHBP. Book seven is set to be more of a book six, part 2. Harry knows what he has to do. If finding the Horcruxes isn't hard enough, he still has to find a way to rid the world of Voldemort, and all the while try to have a normal life
1. Coming of Age

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot

Author's note: I had a lot of ideas of what may happen in the seventh book and decided to write this. I've only read the sixth book recently, so if I make any continuity errors, please point them out. Review if you wish.

**Chapter 1**

**Coming of Age**

"I'm so sick of this," a voice whined, and as the clouds uncovered the moon, a young man could be seen, bathed in silver moonlight

"_Enough_," hissed another, older voice. "You think I'm enjoying our time together?"

"Then why am I still here?" the first voice asked, unable to hide his anger at the second man.

"My patience is waning with you Draco," was the answer. "I've explained that enough. You must remain in hiding, for your safety."

The young man's usual sleek, blond hair was unkempt and his robes were creased and worn. It was apparent that he hadn't changed or showered in several days. His dour attitude and appearance were reflected in his surroundings. The two men sat in a small basement room, no bigger than a prison cell. The single, tiny window near the ceiling let in only a sliver of light, barely illuminating the shabby walls and earth floor. A wooden table, which was little more than a box, sat between the two occupied chairs. The only other items were a large trunk with a silver serpent emblem sitting in the corner, and a rough cot on the opposite wall.

The one called Draco picked at the cracked leather of his chair while muttering, "Don't see why I have to stay hidden for so long."

"Don't you understand?" the other man asked angrily, pushing the curtain of black hair off his face. "The Dark Lord was ready to kill you when he found out it was I who completed the task for you. I had to tell him you were captured to protect you. It was the only way he wouldn't hunt you down."

"And I thank you for saving me, allowing me this life," the blond sneered, slumping back in his chair.

"So you would rather _actually_ be dead?" the older man asked through a clenched jaw, his sallow skin taut, making him look even more agitated. "Listen, Draco, it hasn't been quite so easy for me either. I'm now solely in the service of the Dark Lord. And without my use as a spy, I've become _expendable_." He spoke the last word with resentment, before he went on, "But the only way he won't search for you if he thinks you are already dead."

Draco huffed loudly in defeat and went back to picking at his chair. He didn't know how much longer he could take his confinement. He usually made sure not to look over at the battered door, for its four heavy locks reminded him of how secret and solitary his time here would be.

"That is enough for today, Draco," the older man said, standing and smoothing out his black robes. "I shall return to check on you in five days, as usual. And put that away," he added as Draco pulled out a thin, wooden wand and twirled it absentmindedly between his fingers, causing a spark or two to emit from the tip. "Remember, the Ministry can trace any magic you use."

Draco looked annoyed at him and put it begrudgingly back in the sleeve of his robes. "So what's next?" he asked dully.

"I must return to the Dark Lord and continue working on his newest plan," was the answer.

"He means to go through with it, then?" Draco asked, his curiosity stimulated. "Even after it's been done already."

"Done already? No, Draco, what he has planned hasn't been done already. What happened before was _nothing_ compared to this."

For some reason, Draco looked offended, but only for a split second. "Very well… be off then, Severus." The other man looked affronted, causing Draco to smile and ask, "Or would you rather me call you 'Professor'?"

Cleary not amused, the man called Severus turned on the spot, and with a swish of his billowing robes, he disappeared, leaving the young man alone, chuckling to himself before going back to his usual sullen mood. Meanwhile, on the other side of the country, another boy his age was having an even worse night.

.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.

"_Avada Kedavra!_"

_He couldn't move a muscle. He tried to scream but his mouth stayed shut. He could turn his head away or even shut his eyes. He was forced to watch every agonizing second as a jet of green light rushed forward and hit the old man slumped on the ramparts and lifted him over the side. He wanted desperately to look away as he watched the man he regarded as a mentor hang suspended in the air for what seemed like an eternity before slowly arcing over the side of the wall to fall a dozen stories down. There was nothing he could do. Those words played in his mind over and over again, in the voice of __**that man**__, that face looming right in front of him, taunting him…_

It was at that moment that Harry Potter awoke with a jolt, quickly sitting up in his bed. His heart was racing and he wiped sweat from his forehead while trying to calm himself. Several minutes passed before his breathing slowed and he checked the clock at his bedside. The red digital numbers had just switched to 3:34.

_Not too bad this time, _Harry thought to himself. He had managed to sleep for three and a half hours before waking, which was slightly longer than normal for him. He had been having the same dream every night since returning to Number 4, Privet Drive.

His headmaster's death even haunted him when he was awake. In fact, he went so far as to close his school trunk in his closet as soon as he got back, for everything in there reminded him of the magical world, Hogwarts, and Professor Dumbledore.

"Dumbledore…" Harry whispered into the darkness, and a shiver ran up his spine that had nothing to do with the cool, summer breeze blowing through his open window. He had come to terms with the Headmaster's death but was still sensitive to it and felt the familiar burning sensation of grief and guilt. Though, he knew it wasn't his fault. It would do no good to blame himself when there was nothing he could have done. The only one to blame was Snape; that point had been made painfully clear by his closest friends.

Still, the thought of Dumbledore's death reminded him of how completely alone he was. Even with his parents and godfather gone, the Headmaster had always been there. Unfortunately, Harry had grown to rely so much on Dumbledore's guidance and protection that now it was gone, he went through a phase were all he couldn't think about was how completely lost he was. This feeling lasted only a week before Harry bounced back, but it would never be the same.

Harry had come to regard Dumbledore as a combination of a mentor and a grandfather, and a man that was in control of every situation, even Harry's life. Sure, the Weasleys and Sirius, and even Lupin, had taken care of him and given some parental influence, but he was only ever allowed to leave Number 4 with Dumbledore's permission.

But most importantly, Dumbledore had been their leader against Lord Voldemort and his forces. They had said that Dumbledore was the only one Voldemort ever feared; Harry shuddered at the thought of how confidently and forcefully Voldemort would act with Dumbledore gone.

_Which makes finding his Horcruxes even more important_, Harry thought, and felt the same familiar feeling of being completely alone. Only Harry and Dumbledore knew the existence of the scattered artifacts that housed fragments of Voldemort's soul. At this point, Harry realised he wasn't falling asleep any time soon and swung his legs around to stand up. He walked over to his cluttered desk and picked up a small, golden locket, looking over the fake Horcrux. He still carried it with him wherever he went, a reminder of the task ahead of him. He wanted to get to work as soon as he could, but for now, he was stuck with his Aunt and Uncle. All he could do was wait until his seventeenth birthday, when he would have to leave Privet Drive, as the protection it held would no longer exist. He had decided to stay at Number 12, Grimmauld Place. It was, after all, _his_ house.

These thoughts had stirred something inside Harry, but he couldn't figure out what it was… unless… He looked back at his clock again. 3:47. That meant… _Of course_, Harry understood. Having just woken up, he hadn't noticed that for nearly four hours now, it had been July 31, Harry's birthday. He couldn't keep a smile from his face at the realisation that he was now of age and could practice magic outside of school. For several moments, Harry was lost in thoughts of transfiguring the Dursleys into hedgehogs, until something out the window caught his eye.

He looked out his open window and saw, flying over the thin mist that still hugged the ground, several owls, laden with letters and packages. Harry's heart lifted even higher and he stood up and waited to welcome them into his room. He tracked their approach over the roofs of the rows of houses that made up Little Whinging. They seemed to be repelled by the chilling mist, staying a good distance above the ground. As they flew closer, Harry could tell that there were four incoming owls, two of them carrying packages.

So, one minute later, Harry stepped back from the window to allow the birds into his room. Each of them swooped in, dropped their delivery softly on his bed, and glided back out the window in a matter of seconds; the only evidence they had been there was a few feathers swirling around the room. Harry shook his head before walking over to the bed and sitting down. _How do they always _know, Harry thought, briefly pondering the way owls could always tell, not only where he was, but when he was ready to receive mail. The first letter he picked up bore the Ministry of Magic seal. Curious as to what it could be, he quickly tore open the envelope and read the smooth parchment.

_Dear Mr. Potter,_

_The Ministry of Magic would like to congratulate you on coming of age! As you are undoubtedly aware, you may now practice magic outside of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. However, under Section 13 of the International Confederation of Warlock's Statute of Secrecy, you are still required to use discretion when practicing magic in areas inhabited by the non-magical community (Muggles). Any breaches of this will result in disciplinary action on the part of the Ministry._

_According to our records, you took part in several practice session over Apparition during your most recent school year. Should you wish to obtain your Apparition License, testing takes place here at the Ministry, Department of Magical Transportation, Apparition Test Center. Hours are 9 AM to 5 PM._

_Congratulations again and enjoy the remainder of your holidays!_

_Yours Sincerely,_

_Julietta Entwhistle_

_Department of Magical Transportation_

Even though Harry knew he could practice magic, it was nice to have official conformation from the Ministry. He had gotten into some trouble in that area before. And he had completely forgotten about Apparition. He decided, as he set the letter down on his bed, he would go to the Ministry today; there was no point in waiting, and he had already mastered the skill. He turned to the next letter and recognized this seal also. It was his Hogwarts letter. Wasting no time, he opened it and began to read:

_Dear Mr. Potter,_

_To answer any questions or concerns you may have had in regards to the incidents last term: Hogwarts will indeed be opened for the upcoming school year. The Hogwarts Express leaves King's Cross, Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, the morning of September 1 at eleven o'clock. As per the governors' decision, extensive security measures have been taken to ensure the safety of all students. Be assured that Hogwarts is still the safest place in all of Britain. Any weaknesses that may have existed, as well as the problems leading to the tragic events last month, have been seen to. We hope you decide to continue your education with us and we guarantee you that your safety will not be in jeopardy should you return._

_A list of school books for your possible subjects is enclosed._

_Yours Sincerely,_

_Filius Flitwick,_

_Deputy Headmaster_

_Hmmm… So McGonagall was remaining as Headmistress then,_ Harry thought, not bothering to look at the booklist. She was perfectly able for the job, but he knew she would never be as great as Dumbledore was. He would have to go see her sometime in the next few days. Harry wondered how many students would return… or how many would support McGonagall like they did with Dumbledore. Harry loved Hogwarts and would hate to see it close down. After pondering this for several minutes, he turned his attention to his remaining post.

As he had guessed, the other two items were birthday cards and gifts from his two best friends, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger. Harry hadn't seen either of them, or anyone from the magical world, since the wedding of Ron's brother, Bill, and Fleur Delacour two weeks ago. It had been a great day for everyone: the ceremony was beautiful and Harry met with many of his friends. The idea that there could still be love and hope in a world with Voldemort had uplifted Harry and he was truly relaxed for the first time in a while. He had remembered laughing with Hermione at Ron's awkwardness as one of Bill's groomsmen. Bill had recovered from his injuries very well, and, despite having several long scars on his face, he had never looked happier. There hadn't been any side effects yet from his attack by an untransformed werewolf, but everyone was still on their guard. The only down side to the day was Harry being cornered again by Rufus Scrimgeour, the Minister of Magic. He had asked if Harry had changed his mind about being a spokesperson for the Ministry. Harry, of course, hadn't. At least Harry wasn't too bothered by it. Shaking those thoughts from his head, he picked up the card from the first package and read it.

_Harry,_

_Happy birthday mate! How does it feel to finally be of age? Be sure to give the Dursleys a good scare. I guess you'll be going to the Ministry for your Apparition test today. Don't worry, it's a breeze. My mum says if you do go, meet up with Dad afterwards and he'll bring you back here and we can all have lunch. Hermione's staying here, and Ginny will be around as well. Anyway, hope you like the gift. It's from all of us. Hope to see you soon!_

_ -Roonil_

Harry smiled and set the card on his bedside table, slightly disappointed. He had forgotten that Ron took his Apparition test earlier in the summer. Harry had hoped they could do it together. _Maybe I'll see Neville there, _he thought before turning to the gift. He tore it open, not knowing what to expect from the entire Weasley family. Discarding the wrapping, he opened the box and found another note from Ron.

_Harry,_

_This is a vest and a pair of boots, both made of Dragon hide. The boots were picked out by Bill and they go with just about anything. The vest can be worn comfortably under or over your clothes (though I wouldn't recommend wearing it on the outside, lest you look like Fred and George). They will protect against a wide variety of jinxes, hexes, and curses. Just don't think you can step in front of the Killing Curse… Mum just told me I shouldn't joke like that, but I say you have to be able to joke, or you'll live your life in fear. Happy birthday again and take care of yourself._

_ -Ron_

"Wow…" whispered Harry as he uncovered the gift and ran his fingers over the smooth, scaled material. The only Dragon hide he had was his school gloves, which were dark brown. The boots and vest were solid black, and they seemed to shimmer in the soft moonlight coming through the window. For the Weasleys to do something like this was too much. Even with Ron's dad's promotion the previous year, they didn't have much money and last time Harry checked in Madam Malkin's, the Dragon hide apparel was fairly expensive. And he figured the prices would've increased with all the Death Eater activity.

Harry felt a lump rise in his throat at the thought that the Weasleys would spend so much when they had so little, just to help protect him. It was at that moment when Harry realised the Weasleys really _did_ consider him a part of their family. They had said it before but now Harry knew they truly meant it. It was also at this moment that Harry vowed to do everything in his power to protect them from Voldemort. He had already lost his parents, Sirius, and Dumbledore, and he wasn't going to let it happen to them as well.

When he finally came out of his thoughts, he set that present aside and opened Hermione's card.

_Dear Harry,_

_Happy birthday! Hope the Muggles aren't being too hard on you. I'm staying here with Ron for a week and then my parents and I are going on vacation to Australia. I'm so excited! There's a good deal of magical history down there. It's where we used to send our convicts, and eventually an entire wizarding community grew. Plus, the native Aborigine shamans were some of the earliest users of magic. _

_I hope you like my gifts. I have a feeling they will come in useful. And now you don't need to be in school to use them._

_Ron mentioned something about inviting you over here. I really hope you can come. It must be awful having to live with the Dursleys and cut off from the magical community at times like these. Anyway, hope to see you soon, and do be careful._

_Love from,_

_Hermione_

When Harry finished reading, he set the card on his table next to Ron's and opened the package. As he had guessed, Harry found books inside. The first one was entitled _Advanced Defensive Magic: A Comprehensive Guide to Defeating the Dark Arts._ Harry made a mental note to thank Hermione, as he knew this would come in handy. Expecting another book similar to the first, Harry was surprised to see what the other one was. His face lit up with a smile when he saw a copy of _The Greatest Quidditch Games Ever Played._ It was even thicker than the first and Harry noticed a note sticking out of the top. He read Hermione's neat cursive writing:

_I figured you would want something to keep your mind off Voldemort_

_-Hermione_

"She remembered," Harry said to himself, unable to lose his smile. He thought back to their fifth year during one of the trips to Hogsmeade, when Harry had flipped through it and pointed out that it was one of the most interesting books on the sport of Quidditch. Harry was amazed that Hermione had remembered all this time or that she knew how helpful it would be to have something to distract him every once in a while. He felt that familiar sensation in the pit of his stomach, but as usual, didn't allow it to swell and pushed it back down.

Ever since the wedding, something had changed in his mind about her. He couldn't get over how amazing she looked in her dress robes and had to force himself not to stare when she was near. He no longer saw her as a bushy-haired bookworm. She was now a beautiful young woman. But it wasn't just her appearance. Harry felt something else. She had always been his best friend, almost like a sister, but Harry realised that she was so much more. Ever since the moment they met, Hermione was never once jealous of Harry's fame or the attention he got. To her, he wasn't Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived; he was just Harry. She had always understood him, cared about him, and been there for him. Harry would always be indebted to her for how she helped him free Sirius, or helped him during the Triwizard Tournament, and stood by him even when the whole school was against him. It wasn't how he felt about Ginny, it was much deeper.

But, every time those feelings rose up, he would squash them down. He knew that as long as Voldemort was alive, he would use anyone close to Harry to get to him, and Harry wouldn't allow it any longer. He didn't know what his feelings for Hermione meant, but he wouldn't do anything about them now.

Just then, Harry let out a huge yawn and checked the clock. 4:15. He set the gifts in his trunk, realising that he would need some more sleep if he wanted to go to the Ministry in the morning. He set his alarm for nine before climbing back into bed. As he drifted off, he was, even if only for the moment, at peace.


	2. Back to the Ministry

**Chapter 2**

**Back to the Ministry**

Harry didn't feel like he had slept at all after the alarm cut through his dreams and slowly brought him back to consciousness. Trying to figure out why he wasn't as depressed as usual, he checked the clock and noticed the birthday cards on the nightstand. He started remembering the night before and shook his head to clear the fog from his mind.

Soft rays of sun shone through his open window and several birds chirped and twittered serenely in the calm, summer morning. It had all the promises of a good day.

After recalling that needed to go to the Ministry, Harry grabbed his glasses and climbed out of bed. He wanted to get to the Ministry by ten, so he needed to hurry. He put his glasses on and slowly staggered into his bathroom, careful not to fall over in his half-asleep state.

Ten minutes later, Harry climbed out of the shower and returned to his room, completely awake, and started to get dressed. He wasn't in the mood to wear robes so he threw on a t-shirt and a pair of jeans. He sat down on his bed to put on his trainers just as an owl swooped into his room and dropped a copy of the _Daily Prophet_ on his desk. It was gone before he finished lacing his trainers and Harry picked up the paper it left behind. He quickly scanned the articles, searching for any mention of Death Eater activity or anything suspicious. Fortunately, there was nothing to be found. _Maybe this __**will**__ be a good day,_ Harry thought to himself.

He set the paper on a pile of previous editions and thought about the names he had read earlier in the summer: Angelina Johnson, Padma Patil, Hestia Jones, Florean Fortescue, and the Auror Dawlish. There had been _so _many, but those were only the names he recognised. The two that were hardest to take were Angelina and Padma. Angelina was Harry's Quidditch teammate for five years and Padma was the twin sister of one of his classmates, Parvati. He couldn't imagine what Parvati was going through, knowing of the unique bond twins share. Harry didn't allow himself to dwell on these thoughts for long. It always left him feeling depressed and useless; fortunately, he could now start actively working to put an end to all of it. He grabbed his wand and money bag and slid both into his pockets before heading downstairs.

The only person he ran into was Aunt Petunia. Vernon had already left for work and his cousin Dudley was still in bed. Petunia looked up from her breakfast and paper and immediately started questioning him.

"What are you doing down here so early?" she asked harshly as Harry walked over to the table and picked up an apple.

"I have some things to do in London," Harry answered, rubbing the apple on his shirt.

"What kind of things would _you_ need to do in London?" she fired back, looking clearly annoyed.

"I have to go to the Ministry."

After a long pause, Petunia asked, "_Your_ Ministry?" looking clearly apprehensive. Harry nodded, receiving a perturbed look from her. She quickly regained her composure and said icily, "Well you're not getting any money from me for the Underground."

"I didn't ask for any," Harry replied flatly as he walked out of the kitchen. He made his way to the front door and let himself out, pondering what transportation he would use. He would've liked to take the Underground, but he didn't have any muggle money. It wouldn't do well to Apparate to the Ministry for his Apparition test. He walked to the curb and took a bite of his apple, deciding to take the Knight Bus. He looked up and down the street to make sure no one was watching him before he pulled out his wand and held it in front of him. Taking a step back and another bite of apple, he waited for a second.

BANG

A violently purple triple-decker bus appeared right in front of him, quickly coming to a stop. A young man stood at the entrance and started, "Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transp-"

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Harry interrupted him and climbed on. He was disappointed to see that Stan Shunpike was not back at his position as conductor. That meant he was probably still being held by the Ministry.

"Forgive me, Mr…" the conductor asked, allowing Harry into the door.

"Potter," Harry answered and he saw the young man's eyes flick upwards toward the lightening-shaped scar on his forehead.

"Of course, of course," he muttered, and ushered Harry along the row of cluttered tables and chairs. "Where can we take you this morning?"

"London, the Ministry," Harry replied and handed the conductor eleven sickles before taking a seat in the nearest chair.

"All right then, we've got a few more stops ahead of you," he told Harry after he counted the coins. "Shouldn't be more than ten minutes."

"Thanks."

Harry sat back in his chair and watched the conductor walk up to the driver, Ernie Prang, an elderly wizard that still wore the same large glasses, magnifying his eyes several times. He saw the conductor whispering to Ernie and Harry had the distinct feeling he was informing the driver who their newest passenger was. Ernie looked back briefly before he started up the bus.

BANG

Fifteen minutes later, the bus came to a stop outside of two unimposing buildings and an alley between them. Harry climbed off after the farewells by Ernie and the conductor. The only nice thing about being cut off from the magical world was not having to endure everyone staring at him or asking him dozens of questions. Harry tossed his apple core in a nearby trash bin and tried not to think about how bad it would be in the Ministry, full of witches and wizards. He took a look back at the street before stepping into the alley. A thin layer of mist hung over the ground, unable to be reached by the sun this early. He walked up to the dingy red phone booth and climbed inside. After picking up the receiver and dialing '62442', the familiar cool female voice sounded.

"Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. Please state your name and business."

"Harry Potter, I'm here for an Apparition test," Harry answered.

Once he went through the whole procedure of getting his badge and seeing Eric at the security desk, he made his way over to the lifts, weaving in and out of the crowds. Harry had noticed the Fountain of Magical Brethren had been repaired and he tossed a few galleons into the pool. He tried not to look around, not wanting to remember the last time he was here, when Voldemort and Dumbledore dueled in this very room. There were too many bad memories from that night. The lift he got into was nearly empty and he didn't have to wait long before he reached Level 6, where the Department of Magical Transportation was located.

He stepped off the lift and saw a receptionist's desk right in front of him. There were two long hallways behind the desk on either side, each lined with several exotic plants Harry recognised from Herbology, but didn't know by name. There was no one else in the small waiting area where Harry stood. He had hoped he wouldn't have to wait long to take his test. The receptionist was scribbling something as he walked up and didn't notice him.

"Excuse me…"

She looked up and smiled. "Good morning. How can I help you?" she asked cheerfully.

"Hi. I was wondering if you could tell me where the Apparition Test Center is," Harry answered.

"Of course, it's right down this hall to your left," she motioned which hall, "the door at the end."

"Thanks," Harry said, and set off down the hall.

It was carpeted with a plush, red material, unlike the dark hardwood floors of the lobby. Harry noticed several large, wooden doors lining the hallway, each with brass handles, but no plaques to tell where they led to. He checked his watch and saw that it was right at ten o'clock. Walking a little faster, Harry passed a door on his left, labeled 'Portkey Office' and continued on to the door that read 'Apparition Test Center'. After pausing for a second and taking a deep breath, he pushed on the handle and walked through.

Harry entered a waiting room of about ten comfortable-looking chairs and another receptionist's desk. The room was empty except for the young woman sitting at the desk and he walked right up to her. He was relieved that he wouldn't have to wait in line to be tested.

"Good morning," she said happily. "How are you this morning?"

"Fine, thanks," Harry answered. "I wanted to take the test for my Apparition license."

"Certainly. Just fill this out," she handed him a parchment form, "and then have a seat. Someone will be with you very shortly."

Harry quickly jotted down all the information needed and handed the form back to the receptionist before taking the closest chair. He could've sworn he heard the young woman gasp while reading his form and then cast an awed glance at him before looking back down. Harry laughed to himself and picked up a Chocolate Frog from a basket sitting on a nearby table. He opened it up and quickly ate the frog before it hopped away and then checked to see which famous witch or wizard he got. Pulling out the card, Harry started chuckling, out loud this time, at the familiar face staring back at him. The receptionist glanced up and gave him a quizzical look.

"What is it," she asked him.

He showed her the card, saying, "Dumbledore. He was the first one I ever got."

She looked even more confused, but Harry didn't care. He stared at his old headmaster, his nose as crooked as it had always been, eyes twinkling merrily through his half-moon spectacles.

Lost in his thoughts, he didn't hear when the door in the back of the room opened, but looked up when a wheezy voice called out his name. An ancient looking wizard was standing in the doorway, looking down at a clipboard. He had a beard the rivaled Dumbledore's, but he was a head shorter than Harry and very frail, like a well-placed gust of wind would blow him miles away. As Harry stood up, he slipped the card of Dumbledore into his pocket, and then headed through the door into the examination room.

.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.

Half an hour later, Harry strode down the hall toward the lift, considerably more cheerful than he had been when he entered this floor. The test hadn't been nearly as difficult as he expected. It consisted of only two, fairly easy parts. He first had to Apparate from one end of a long corridor, down to the other end and back. Harry stumbled on his first landing, not yet used to the sensation of traveling by Apparition, but he recovered and didn't have any more problems. The second part was apparating to a building in Diagon Alley, quite far away, and back again. Apparently, the Department of Magical Transportation had set up that building solely for Apparition testing, as it was a good distance from the Ministry. After he returned, the examiner looked him over thoroughly, but all his body parts were accounted for. Harry had passed easily, and it was a great feeling to be able to get around hassle-free. As he stopped to wait for the lift, he ran his fingers along the locket and Chocolate Frog card in his pockets, reminding himself of what it had cost to get where he was now and how much further he still had to go.

Once the lift arrived and the doors opened, Harry heard his name called out again. He looked up to see Ron's dad, Arthur Weasley, waiting inside, a huge smile on his face. His red hair looking thinner than the last time Harry had seen him. He figured it was due to stress and overwork, which would also explain his horn-rimmed glasses being slightly askew.

"I had heard you were in the building so I came down to see how the testing went," he said jovially, pulling Harry onto the lift with him.

"Oh, it was fine," Harry told him, taking his hands out of his pockets to shake Mr. Weasley's hand. "Actually, I was just on my way up to see you. Ron had said something about you all having me over."

"Of course, of course, it is your birthday after all. I trust it's going well so far?"

"No complaints yet," Harry answered with a grin. "By the way, thanks so much for the gift, it was amazing."

"It was our pleasure. I hoped you would like it."

By now, the lift had reached the lobby and Harry and Mr. Weasley stepped off with the remaining people while another group made there way on. The lobby had grown even more crowded than when Harry had arrived and he was slightly reluctant to walk through all those people and have them gape at him the entire time.

Mr. Weasley seemed to pick up on this and said, "Let's just go from here."

Harry was about to agree, but he remembered something and said, "Actually, I needed to go back to the Dursley's real quick and take care of something."

"All right then, I'll go on ahead and let them know you'll be along soon."

"Great," Harry replied. "See you in a few."

Harry turned on the spot and disappeared just as Mr. Weasley did.

.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.

Harry had decided to Apparate right into the Dursley's kitchen, and he got the desired result. Petunia, who was working on lunch screamed and the potato she was holding slipped out of her hand, smacking Dudley in the side of the head. Dudley turned to see what happened and jumped a foot in the air at the sight of Harry standing in a spot that was vacant five seconds ago.

"What on earth do you think you're doing?" Aunt Petunia demanded, brandishing her knife at Harry.

Not bothered by this, Harry said, "I just came back to get my stuff. Then I'm leaving. For good."

"F-For good?"

"Yes. I no longer need to stay here. Nor do I want to," he added with a glance at Dudley. "So I appreciate you taking me in and… well, I guess the only good thing is you didn't end up killing me."

"I don't know why that's a good thing," Dudley said bitterly. "We would've been doing everyone who knows you a favour."

In the blink of an eye, Harry had his wand out and pointed at Dudley. Once it registered, Dudley gave a small squeal of fright and bolted into the sitting room and up the stairs.

Petunia rounded on him, saying sharply, "Put that away before someone sees you. Now, since you're done terrorizing my son, you'd best go clean out his room."

Harry had turned to leave, slipping his wand back in his pocket, when his Aunt called out his name. He turned back to see her looking at him, her eyes shining slightly.

"Do take care of yourself," she said, barely more than a whisper.

Harry held her gaze for several seconds before turning and leaving the kitchen. That had been the strangest thing his Aunt had ever said to him. He had always thought she had the same contempt for him that Uncle Vernon and Dudley did. Perhaps there was more to her than Harry knew. She was, after all, his mother's sister. Witch or no witch, she must have been saddened by her death on some level, even if she would never admit it. Harry didn't dwell on this for long though; he went to work packing everything he owned into his trunk. It didn't take long, and once he had checked every inch of his room and sent Hedwig off to meet him at Grimmauld place, he shrunk down his trunk, placed it into his pocket, and left Privet Drive forever.

.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.

Harry reappeared in the dark entrance hall of Number 12, Grimmauld Place. He quickly drew his wand and whispered, "_Lumos_," bathing the area in the light from his ignited wand tip. Harry walked cautiously down the hall, listening for any signs of other people, but he heard nothing. The shabby carpet and peeling wallpaper had been replaced, but Harry could still tell that the house wasn't being occupied.

He entered the door at the end and followed the stairs down into the kitchen basement. There was a thin layer of dust on the large, wooden table, a sign that it had not been used in a short while.

Harry went back upstairs and back along the hall to another staircase. He followed it up to the second floor and looked around. He hadn't been to Sirius' old house since Christmas of his fifth year and he was shocked to see how much it had changed. Sirius had been working to rid everything that betrayed the kind of people his parents were, and it seemed he had finished. The house looked completely different: not a single Black family heirloom was to be found, save for the portrait in the entry hall and the family tree. Apparently no one had found a way to get those down. Harry spent several minutes walking along the hall and peering into each room. The dark and gloomy atmosphere the whole house possessed was now friendly and welcoming. Where there was once green and silver, there was now red and gold. Harry was pleased that Sirius had found a productive way to spend his time trapped in this house where he was haunted by his family's past.

Before leaving, Harry decided to pick out his own bedroom, from the many the he had to choose from. The first one he came across after climbing to the third floor seemed to fit his needs perfectly. A large four-poster bed stood in the far corner, its hangings red and gold with a scarlet, satin bedspread. On the opposite side of the room was a small sitting area. Two high backed chairs surrounded a dark, mahogany table and they sat in front of a wide fireplace of marble with gold trim. In front of the fireplace laid a plush, velvet rug, crimson with a gold Gryffindor lion embroidered in the center and golden fringe lining the edges. Along the back wall stood a mahogany dresser and wardrobe with golden handles and next to it, a door leading into a private bathroom. The most impressive thing about the bathroom was the sunken marble bathtub half the size of a swimming pool. However, one of the more important deciding factors on this room was the fact that the Black family library was right across the hall. Fortunately, Sirius hadn't cleared out any of the old, dusty tomes, for Harry had a suspicion he might find some information on Horcruxes in there.

Remembering he needed to get to the Weasleys', he pulled out his trunk and set it at the foot of his new bed before enlarging it. After giving the room one last look, he turned and headed out and down the hall.

When he reached the entrance hall, he lit the gas lamps lining it, in case he didn't return until after dark, and made sure the door was securely locked. Feeling satisfied with his new house, he Disapparated, for the seventh time that day, getting more and more used to the feeling with each one.


	3. The Best Birthday

**Chapter 3**

**The Best Birthday**

Harry stepped off the road that led back to Ottery St. Catchpole and onto the soft grass in front of him. He looked up at the stone and wooden structure that was the Burrow, his favourite wizarding house. As he walked up to the front door, several brown chickens scurried out of his path and around the back of the house. Upon reaching the porch, Harry had to step over the several pairs of boots and a cauldron, whose bottom had rusted through completely, rendering it useless. When he reached the door, he knocked sharply several times, and waited.

A few seconds later, he heard shuffling behind the door and the familiar voice of Mrs. Weasley calling out.

"Who's there?" she asked apprehensively. "Declare yourself."

"It's just Harry," Harry answered, and as soon as he did, there was a scrambling from behind the door.

Harry heard several locks being unlatched before the door swung open, revealing a beaming Mrs. Weasley. She had several stains on her apron, as if she had just been cooking very quickly and her red hair was slightly tousled, but she was cheerful nonetheless.

"Harry, dear! Come in, Come in," she exclaimed before forcefully pulling him inside and giving him a huge motherly hug. When she finally let go, she turned and locked up the door, double-checking each one.

"I hope you didn't try Apparating inside, with our wards and all," she told Harry as she secured the door.

"I assumed the house was warded, but I wouldn't have tried even if it wasn't. Courtesy dictates that we allow fellow witches or wizards the opportunity to deny us entry," Harry replied, smiling inwardly.

"Who did you hear that from," Mrs. Weasley asked, looking slightly stunned.

"Oh, just an old friend."

Mrs. Weasley ushered him along toward the living room while asking him about his summer and his recent trip to the Ministry. Harry told her about his Apparation test and then moving out of the Dursley's house. She seemed genuinely interested, which was probably why his first step into the living room came with such a shock.

Harry was nearly blown back at the volume of a room full of people all yelling 'Happy Birthday'. Harry's mouth fell open as he looked around, seeing all his closest friends smiling at the surprise they had given him. They all stood and sat around the room that was so lavishly decorated: the entire Weasley family (save for Percy), Hermione, Lupin, McGonagall, Tonks, Hagrid, Moody, and Kingsley, all beaming at him.

Harry must have stood there gaping for some time, for George asked from the chair right next to him, "Geez, Harry, did you get up and hit all the bars this morning now that you're of age?"

"George Weasley, what a thing to say," Mrs. Weasley rounded on her son. "He's just surprised, that's all."

Harry shook himself out of his daze and managed to say only, "Uh… hey everybody."

.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.

Harry was having a great time at his first ever surprise party. He spent an hour chatting with everyone that had showed up and thanking them for throwing him such a party. Everyone had stayed away from the topic of Dumbledore or Voldemort, not wanting to ruin the day for Harry. Moody and Lupin talked to him about Grimmauld Place and some of the protection it had, while Kingsley and Tonks gave him some advice about his intended career choice of Auror. Next, Hagrid had told him about some of the new creatures he had acquired for the upcoming school year and then he got into a discussion with the Weasley children (much to Ron's annoyance) about how the Chudley Cannons were going nowhere this year.

After Ron regained consciousness half an hour later (he got so angry, he tried to hex all his brothers at once, which proved a mistake), Mr. Weasley came out of the kitchen and announced, "Molly's just finished with lunch, so we're ready to eat."

They all filed outside to the garden, where a long wooden table sat, laden with food. Arthur steered him over to the chair at the head of the table, where he sat with Ginny on one side and Ron on the other.

Mrs. Weasley had gone all out for this meal. The amount of food rivaled that of any Hogwarts feast and it seemed everyone's favourites could be found. Almost at once, several conversations started up as they all helped themselves to the tantalising meal in front of them. Bill, Charlie, Fred, and George resumed their conversation on the next Quidditch season and Molly, Tonks, and Fleur reminisced about how beautiful the wedding was. Further down, the rest were talking animatedly about something Harry couldn't hear, though it seemed Arthur and Lupin were making a joke at McGonagall's expense while Hagrid and Moody were hiding their smiles.

As Ginny was starting on her helping of Shepherd's Pie, she asked, "So Harry, having a good birthday?"

"It's been brilliant," Harry said, a huge grin on his face. "How long have you guys been planning this?"

"Weeks," said Ron through a mouthful of mashed potatoes. "We figured you deserved a proper birthday party, 'specially now you're of age."

"Well, it was a great idea. You guys are amazing," Harry told them, and started on his pork chops. "By the way you three, thanks for the gifts. They're great."

"Sure thing, mate," Ron said, clapping Harry on the shoulder, before continuing, "We wanted to get you something really special. That Dragon hide is dead useful."

"Sorry about sending them to you at your Uncle's house," Hermione added, "But we didn't know if you would make it today."

"Actually, I had kinda forgotten it was my birthday," Harry admitted, grinning sheepishly. "So without them, I wouldn't have remembered to go to the Ministry."

Ginny smirked at him and asked, "How can you forget your own birthday?"

"Yeah, it's pretty sad," Harry confessed, "But the Dursleys never paid it much attention, so I stopped seeing it as such a big deal."

The next second, there was a loud pop from the other end of the table, and the four of them looked over to see a large, bright yellow canary sitting where Tonks previously was. It took a moment to register what just happened before half the table burst out laughing. Even McGonagall couldn't suppress a grin at the giant bird looking around awkwardly.

"Ah, that one never gets old," Fred said with an air of deep satisfaction.

"Right you are, dear brother," his twin, George, replied. "You'd think they would catch on by now wouldn't you."

"What have I told you two about using your pranks during dinner?" Mrs. Weasley demanded, clearly not amused.

"Ah, but Mum, that's why it works so well. No one's expecting it," George told her, but her face merely grew redder.

As soon as the spell wore off, Tonks jumped to her feet, wand drawn. "All right, who was it? Oh, I don't even have to ask," she added at the sight of Fred and George's grins.

"You know Nymphadora," Fred said in a condescending tone, "You really should pay attention to what you eat."

"You wankers, this'll be the last time you get me" she growled raising her wand, and the twins bolted towards the house, the young Auror right behind them.

After everyone died down, Hermione turned over to Harry and asked, "So Harry, where will you stay once you leave your Aunt and Uncle's?"

"Grimmauld Place. I've already moved out, actually," he told them. "I wasn't sure about it at first… I thought it would remind me too much of how miserable Sirius was there, but he finished cleaning it up. The whole place is redecorated, it looks great. Plus it's got good protection and it is mine, after all."

"Man, it must be nice to have your own house," Ron said, stabbing at his portion of treacle tart. "I can't wait till we graduate and I can get out of here."

"You guys are welcome any time you want. There are plenty of bedrooms, and it's much nicer than it used to be. Lots of red and gold." This seemed to cheer Ron up.

"So what are you planning for the rest of the summer?" Ginny asked.

"Well, I'm going out to Godric's Hollow, aren't I?" Harry said, looking thoughtfully.

"Whatever you do," Ron told him, "we're with you, Harry."

At this, Harry bit his lip, hoping his friends would understand what he was about to tell them. "Thanks Ron, but I think for this, I'm gonna go alone." Ron opened his mouth to protest, but Harry went on, "Just to go see my parents' house. I think it's something I need to go through by myself."

Ron looked like he still wanted to object, but Hermione elbowed him sharply in the ribs. "We understand perfectly, Harry."

Harry nodded appreciatively and said, "Once I get back, I'll get to work searching for those Horcruxes," dropping his voice at the last word. "And I have a feeling I'll need plenty of help with that."

"Do you have any ideas what or where they could be?" Ginny asked.

"I have a few," Harry answered, "but we shouldn't talk about it here. You guys are the only ones that know about them and we should keep it that way."

It was nearing two o'clock and the sun was making it uncomfortably hot. Harry looked around the table and noticed that everyone had finished eating, even Fred, George, and Tonks, who had yet to return. Having just remembered something, Harry excused himself from his friends and moved down to where Tonks had been sitting, right next to Mr. Weasley.

"Ah, Harry! Having a good time?" he asked jovially as Harry sat down.

"Yeah, it's been amazing. You guys are great," Harry smiled, pulling his chair up.

"Well, if anyone deserves it, you do."

Harry thanked him again, but then looked meaningfully at the other wizard. "Actually, I wanted to ask if the Ministry had located Snape yet."

Mr. Weasley frowned for a second, as if bothered by Harry's question, but answered, "No, I'm afraid not. We've got several men searching, but nothing yet. It seems his house has been deserted for some time."

"All right then," Harry said, slightly crestfallen. "I thought maybe you had some information the _Prophet_ didn't."

Mr. Weasley clapped him on the back and said, "Don't worry Harry, we'll find him. And he'll get what he deserves. But don't bother with it now, just enjoy your birthday."

Harry nodded and looked up from his plate. "So… collected any new plugs recently?"

.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.

After everyone raved to Molly about how wonderful the meal was, she ushered them inside to the living room, where they spent the rest of the afternoon talking or playing chess. Ron had challenged everyone, but no one managed to beat him. Harry was the only one that came close, drawing out an epic match that lasted nearly two hours. Ron wasn't about to give in, even if it was Harry's birthday.

After they had finished, it was nearing five, and most of the guests needed to get back to there respective homes. Harry had thanked everyone profusely for setting this up and coming, shaking everyone's hands several times. George had tried to use a Freezing Charm to get him to calm down. Unfortunately, Harry was too quick and deflected it back. They all decided to leave George alone for the time being.

Harry stood by the front door as everyone filed out. The last person was McGonagall, who stopped to say something. Harry tensed up, not knowing what to expect, but she didn't have her usual stern look. He relaxed slightly.

"Potter, I'd like to meet with you at Hogwarts tomorrow if you're available," she told him.

"Of course, Professor," Harry said. "What time?"

"I will be free at ten. The password is…"—she hesitated for a moment—"it's 'lemon drop'."

Harry nodded, understanding the small tribute to Dumbledore. He agreed to be there and she bade him good evening.

Harry locked the door behind her before returning to the living room. Most of the Weasleys had run off, leaving only Ron, Hermione, and Ginny. Ron was sitting in a chair next to the fireplace with Hermione squeezed right next to him. Ginny was across the room, making a show of looking disgusted. They all looked up when Harry entered and tracked his movement over to the sofa.

"What!?" Harry demanded at the three of them staring intently at him.

"You know," Ron said, looking around to make sure they were alone. "The Horcruxes."

"Oh, right," answered Harry, also checking the room. "Well, it looks like I've got plenty of work to do."

"_We_ have plenty of work," Ginny corrected him, looking pointedly at him.

"That's what I meant," mumbled Harry.

He was a bit annoyed at their insistence of aiding him in such a dangerous task, but he knew Dumbledore wouldn't have wanted him to work alone. He would have wanted Harry to rely on and trust his friends. So, he recounted where they stood so far.

"Well, the diary and the ring are taken care of. I don't know about the locket, though. We'll have to find it to be sure, R.A.B. might not have had a chance to remove the soul fragment. Then there's Hufflepuff's cup, something of Ravenclaw's, and Nagini. After that, it's Voldemort himself," Harry had held up his fingers and ticked off each one.

"Where do you think they might be?" Hermione asked.

"Dumbledore conjectured that Voldemort made the Horcruxes after significant murders and also hid them in places with a lot of meaning," explained Harry. "I think I'll try looking around the Riddle Manor. Seeing as that's the place where he murdered his father and grandparents, and destroyed any ties to him having muggle blood."

"That makes sense," Hermione told him. "Is that all?"

"Well I haven't had much time to research it. But that's what I'll be doing the rest of the summer." Harry said this thoughtfully as he looked out the window.

The sun was slowly sinking below the trees surrounding the Weasleys' makeshift Quidditch pitch. A few thin rays of orange and red made it through the leaves, illuminating patterns on the garden and the wall opposite the window where Harry sat. He could see the gnomes were coming back, dashing in and out of the streaks of light, as if playing a game of tag.

Harry couldn't help wondering what it would be like to live as such as simple creature. To not have a care in the world (except maybe where your next meal would come from) and not be bothered with anything outside their garden habitat. Merely living your life from one moment to the next.

Harry didn't know how long he watched the creatures scurrying about, but it was long enough to get Ginny to walk over and shake him from his thoughts.

"Wha- oh, sorry," Harry jumped, and saw they were all looking at him, slightly concerned. "Just lost in my thoughts, that's all. Actually, it's getting kinda late. I should probably be off."

"Right," said Ron, pushing Hermione off him so he could stand up. "Well, I hope you enjoyed today."

"It was the best," grinned Harry and shook his redhead friend's hand.

Ginny then gave him a hug and wished him Happy Birthday again. Before she pulled away, she kissed him on the cheek.

Harry turned to Hermione next and said, "Thanks, Hermione, for the books. I can't believe you remembered."

"Oh, you know I've got a good memory," she told him. Ron muttered something that sounded like '11 O.W.L.s', making Hermione roll her eyes in annoyance, before continuing to Harry, "Just be sure to read it sometime."

Harry knew what she meant and Hermione pulled him towards her and hugged him tightly. Harry tried to focus on something else, but all he could think about was how amazing her hair smelled and how perfect he felt embracing her. After a minute, she, like Ginny, kissed him on the cheek, but then added in a whisper, "Please be safe, Harry." Harry nodded as she pulled away and the four of them headed to the door.

"I guess we won't see you until the start of term," Ron thought aloud, as they reached the front door.

"Right," said Harry, unable to meet their eyes. He shifted his gifts in his arms and said, "Well, I'll be off then."

They all called out 'happy birthday' to him one last time before he vanished into thin air. The three stood there for only a moment before they went back inside. They knew that as soon as the sun went down, the mist would rise again.

.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.

Harry arrived back at Grimmauld Place with a soft pop, immediately grateful that he had lit the old-fashioned gas lamps in the entry hall. Not just since it was nearly dark, but mostly because Harry was no longer welcomed by a gloomy scene of worn carpet, serpents, and ominous-looking portraits lining the walls. Harry felt overwhelming gratitude for what Sirius had done here, and only wished he had a way to thank him. The lamps flickered in the breeze of him walking by, making the gold trim seem to shimmer and glow.

Harry made his way upstairs to the third floor, moving awkwardly as he tried not to drop any of his gifts. When he reached the landing, he started toward his room, but the door across the hall caught his eye. He peered in at the hundreds of ancient texts lining the shelves of the library and decided he should start his research tonight. _The sooner, the better_.

He pushed open the door to his room and entered, stumbling in the darkness over to his bed. After setting down his gifts, Harry drew his wand and, with a wave, ignited the lamps in his room. The items he had just set down were bathed in a warm glow, allowing Harry to sort through them.

Harry hadn't been disappointed by anything he had received today. All his friends had made sure to get him something useful. Tonks and Kingsley together gave him a brand new set of the _Auror's Training Guides. _They had said it was best to start working as soon as possible, since the program was so exclusive. Hagrid had given him two unicorn horns, two small vials of acromantula venom, and a bottle of dragon blood. These were three of the most expensive potion ingredients he knew of, and, while Harry didn't know if he would use them in his NEWT level potion making, he was certainly grateful that he wouldn't have to worry about buying such costly ingredients should the need arise.

The most useful gift was from Moody and McGonagall. Together, they had gotten Harry a smaller version of Moody's trunk. This one only had four locked compartments, instead of seven, and was about half the size of Moody's, but still incredibly helpful. It could hold three times as much as his normal trunk and took up only half the space.

Finally, Lupin had given him Sirius' other two-way mirror. Lupin had come across it during the summer after Harry's fifth year and eventually decided he had no use for it. Though he could have kept it to communicate with Harry, Lupin figured it would be better for Harry to give it to one of his friends. Harry was immensely grateful and decided to give it to Ron during the school year.

Seeing the mirror laying on the bed reminded Harry of something he needed to do, and he strode purposefully over to his old trunk. After several minutes of searching through his possessions, he finally found what he was looking for. He extracted a small piece of cloth folded over several times and carried it to the bed. Opening it, he revealed the broken pieces of his own shattered mirror, the one Sirius had given him after Christmas two years ago.

Holding his breath, Harry drew his wand and tapped the frame, muttering, "_Reparo_." He was greatly relieved to see the broken pieces rattle and shake before zooming back into their original places. All the shards were present and the cracks slowly mended; Harry let out a sigh of relief at the sight of his mirror as good as new.

Feeling much more at ease, he set both mirrors on his desk and headed across the hall to the library, intent on beginning his research.

.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.

After six straight hours, Harry felt like he had hardly scratched the surface of what the library held. And if that wasn't disappointing enough, he had found next to nothing when it came to useful information. All his searching boiled down to a few mentions of Horcruxes as a very evil magic, but nothing on the histories of Rowena Ravenclaw and Godric Gryffindor, and no suitable candidates for the elusive R.A.B.

Physically and mentally exhausted, Harry stumbled back to his room, cleared off his bed, and climbed in, not bothering to undress. Trying to get Horcruxes off his mind, he reminisced about his most enjoyable birthday yet. Eventually, Harry slowly drifted off to sleep, this time unable to keep thoughts of Hermione swirling around his head.


	4. Inheritance

**Chapter 4**

**Inheritance**

Harry awoke the next morning to something he hadn't felt in over a year: his scar was searing painfully.

Instantly awake, Harry's mind started frantically trying to assess what it could mean. According to Dumbledore, Voldemort had been using Occlumency against Harry since last summer, closing off the connection between their minds. If Voldemort had reopened the connection, it was possible he was trying to extract information from Harry. He shuddered at this thought and decided he should probably start studying Occlumency again.

After a quick shower in his lavish bathroom and an equally quick breakfast of eggs and toast (there wasn't much food left in the house), he returned to his room to dress for his trip to Hogwarts. When he entered, he noticed that the delivery owl had already dropped off his copy of the _Daily Prophet_.

As soon as he saw the front page, a sickening feeling swelled in the pit of his stomach. His previous thoughts of Voldemort came rushing back in a heartbeat.

"Oh no…" he whispered, as he read the article in disbelief.

_**You-Know-Who Strikes Again**_

_** The Dark Mark seen over local Muggle-born's house**_

_At 3:30 of this morning, August 1, the Dark Mark was reported seen over the house of Dr. Michael Granger(41) and Dr. Jean Granger(39), both Muggles. The Grangers have one daughter, Muggle-born witch Hermione Granger(17). _

_From what can be gathered so far, the Granger residence in Watford was attacked by Death Eaters early this morning. Both Michael and Jean were murdered by use of the Killing Curse. Preliminary reports from St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries also revealed slight nerve damage, a sign of excessive exposure to the Cruciatus Curse. The Death Eaters went on to set fire to the house and set off the Dark Mark before leaving the scene._

_The only conclusion that can be drawn at this time as to the reason behind this attack is You-Know-Who's common practice of torturing and killing Muggles and Muggle-born witches and wizards._

_Even stranger than this seemingly unprovoked attack was an ominous note found nearby. It was discovered by the squad dispatched by the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, yet no one has been able to make sense of it. It reads:_

"_Your girlfriend has only __**you**__ to thank."_

_Aurors from the DMLE have already begun searching for clues as to who might be behind this attack and trying to make sense of the only piece of evidence found._

_For more on You-Know-Who's recent attacks, see page 11._

As Harry read, he felt his knees grow weaker and weaker until he slowly dropped to the ground. He reread it again and again, each time hoping it would magically transform into some article over a new policies of the Floo Network Authority, or anything else. And the more he wished it not to be true, the more he was mocked by the blown-up picture of the Dark Mark hanging over his best friend's house.

It didn't take much to figure out what the note had meant. Clearly, Voldemort had seen Hermione in Harry's mind the previous night. He may have even forced his way into Harry's mind and discovered Harry's unrequited feelings for her.

If that was the case, Voldemort wasted no time using that information against Harry where it would hurt the most. Harry knew that Voldemort wouldn't hesitate to hurt anyone he held close just to get to him. But he didn't know Voldemort could do it so easily.

Harry managed to pull himself together and stand up just in time to race into the bathroom and empty the contents of his stomach, namely the breakfast he just ate, into the toilet.

.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.

As soon as Harry regained his composure, he threw on whatever clothes he could find and Apparated away to the Burrow.

He landed on the soft grass and quickly strode toward the front door. The beautiful sunny weather from the day before had been replaced by dull, overcast conditions. Harry sighed nervously, the dreary climate doing nothing to placate the tension of the situation.

Upon reaching the front door, Harry heard voices on the other side of the house. As he listened closer, he could tell it was a girl and a guy. He paused, his hand outstretched, about to knock on the door, and listened intently. Making up his mind after he heard the female voice sob, he headed around to the back of the house.

There, sitting on a bench in the garden, were Ron and Hermione. Ron looked up when Harry approached, but his face was expressionless. Hermione had her head buried in Ron's chest and was crying softly as Ron consolingly rubbed up and down her back. Harry noticed her hair was much bushier than he had remembered seeing it in a long time.

Harry cautiously opened the gate, not knowing what to say or how Hermione would react. He desperately hoped that Hermione hadn't deduced what the note might have meant. The latch of the gate clicked loudly behind him and Hermione looked up at the noise. Her eyes were red and puffy and tears were still steaming down her face and slowly falling to the ground.

Harry could stop himself from thinking how pretty she was and how he wanted nothing more than to take her into his arms and comfort her. Somehow, Harry knew that Hermione would never again be as beautiful as she was at that moment. And that thought made Harry feel immense happiness, and yet, at the same time, immense despair.

Hermione's face was full of emotional anguish when she looked up. As soon as she saw Harry, he could see changes going through her, like she didn't know what to think. He could see she was distraught, but also confused, unsure what to make of Harry standing there. But her face soon hardened slightly at the sight of Harry. She carefully got to her feet, Ron steadying her, and briskly walked towards Harry, her expression growing colder with each step.

"Hermione," Harry choked out, as she drew nearer, "I'm so sorry. You have every right to be mad-"

SLAP

Harry was cut off by Hermione's hand striking him hard across the face. She had used all the force she could muster, and Harry was knocked back a step. His face stinging, he looked up to see Hermione's expression changed immediately. She grew miserable once more, though Harry didn't know if she regretted hitting him or not. Without a word, she turned and swiftly walked into the house.

Harry stared for several minutes, his cheek burning as much as his heart. His physical pain had quickly turned to grief, guilt, and nausea. He knew Hermione had every reason to do what she did, and to blame him, but he couldn't get over the fact that he had most likely lost one of his two best friendships.

"I guess I deserved that," Harry said to himself, but aloud.

"You sure did," Ron answered, his voice lacking any inflection.

Ron stood up and walked over to Harry, making his steps deliberately slow.

"Hermione's not stupid, you know," he told Harry. "She figured out what that note meant. Apparently you have feelings for her."

"Look, Ron, it doesn't mean anything—" Harry started, but Ron cut him off.

"And it seems you can't keep her out of your thoughts," he said through gritted teeth.

"Ron, I'm sorry. You know I always had trouble with Occlumency. I feel terrible, I don't know what to do."

"Ever since our first year, I've had to live in your shadow. You always got everything and I just got brushed aside," Ron went on, his voice steadily rising. "And once I got something, you wanted it for yourself. You never liked Hermione until she was with me."

By now, Ron's fists were clenched and he was shaking with anger. "And now you've dragged her down with you." Harry couldn't believe what he was hearing. He thought that if anyone would understand, it would be Ron. But now, all these repressed feelings were flooding out of him.

"I always put up with your shit because we were friends," Ron was practically yelling now.

"Are you going crazy? You think I asked for this life!? You think I'm glad I grew up never knowing my parents and having the most powerful dark lord constantly trying to do me in?!" Harry exclaimed, feeling his face flush with anger.

CRACK

Harry didn't have time to react as Ron's fist came around and connected with his face. He fell down hard on his tailbone, his mouth aching sharply. Ron simply rubbed his knuckles as Harry stared up at him in disbelief. A metallic taste was filling his mouth and it felt like his jaw had shattered.

"Just stay the hell away from me, Harry," Ron spat disdainfully. "If you ever hurt my family or my girlfriend again, I'll—I'll make you regret it."

And with that, Ron stormed off into the house, leaving Harry on the ground, his jaw on fire. He rolled over to spit the blood out of his mouth before standing up. Feeling worse than he had ever felt in his life, he made his way out of the garden. _Ok, looks like I'm two for two with best friendships,_ Harry thought bitterly.

Each step Harry took away from the Burrow sent him farther from his greatest source of happiness and comfort, and deeper into loneliness and despair. He knew he had to do everything he could to try to make things right. And the first thing he had to do in order to right things was get rid of Voldemort.

"Harry, wait!" a voice called to him as he made his way away from the house. Harry turned to see Ginny running up to him.

"Did you come to hit me as well?" Harry asked humorlessly.

"Well, you know how Ron has a quick temper. He just overreac-"

"No, Ginny, he didn't overreact," Harry cut her off forcefully. "If anything, they both let me off easy."

"I suppose you think this is your fault." It wasn't a question

"It was my fault!" exclaimed Harry. "If I had learned Occlumency properly, this wouldn't have happened. Or if I didn't have these stupid mixed-up feelings."

"Harry, you can't save everyone," Ginny said, her annoyance apparent. "Everyone knows Ron and Hermione are your best friends."

"Used to be," Harry muttered.

Ginny went on as if she didn't hear him, "Voldemort has known for a while and could've attacked at any time."

"But I practically pointed them out to Voldemort. If they had protection-"

"It wouldn't have mattered," Ginny cut him off. "Snape killed the _greatest_ sorcerer in history, in the _safest_ building in Britain. And he's nothing compared to Voldemort. Nobody's protected well enough."

Harry still didn't look convinced, and Ginny seemed to notice. "Harry, this is a war. People die. You have to understand that. I thought you would've figured that out after Sirius and Dumbledore."

Harry was visibly hurt by this comment and explained, "But Hermione's parents weren't involved! They weren't trying to protect me. They didn't do a damn thing!"

Ginny reached out and put a hand on Harry's arm, trying to comfort him. "I know it's hard, but there's nothing you can do about it anymore. You have to focus on Voldemort. He's the one responsible for all of this, not you. You have to find the rest of the Horcruxes so you can end all of this."

This seemed to pacify Harry a little and he relaxed slightly. "Don't you mean 'we'?" he asked in response to her last statement.

"C'mon Harry, I'm not stupid. It's clear you're not planning on going back to Hogwarts this year," answered Ginny.

"Am I that obvious?" Harry smirked slightly.

"I know you wouldn't be able to go to classes when there's so much work to be done."

"Thanks for understanding, Ginny," Harry told her and she engulfed him in a huge hug.

"Just watch out for yourself," Ginny told him, while squeezing him tightly.

When they eventually broke apart, Harry said, "Do me a favour." She raised her eyebrow questioningly, and he went on, "Take care of them for me," nodding his head toward the house. Ginny agreed, assuring him that she would do her best.

"And Ginny," he added, his face becoming more serious, "I will likely be doing a lot of dangerous things searching for the Horcruxes." Ginny started to look nervous, and Harry continued, "If I die-"

"Harry, don't…" Ginny pleaded and her eyes were instantly shining with unshed tears.

"No, listen… if I die, you three have to continue for me. With the Horcruxes destroyed, Voldemort will be mortal. And you can kill him. Do you understand?"

After several minutes of silence, Ginny nodded.

"Promise me," Harry said.

Ginny looked up at him and hesitated for a second, but then whispered, "I promise."

"Thanks. I'll do my best to stay out of trouble."

Harry remembered something else. "Oh, one more thing. I think you three should start up the D.A. again. I don't know if you'll have a good Defense professor, but it wouldn't hurt to have extra practice. Just don't tell them it was my idea… they're probably not very keen on listening to me right now."

Ginny told him she would mention it. With that, they said their goodbyes and Harry Disapparated from the Burrow. For several minutes, Ginny stood there, staring off to the horizon, her long, red hair swishing about. "Good luck, Harry," she whispered into the light, summer breeze, before returning to the house.

.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.

Harry reappeared on the winding dirt road between the village of Hogsmeade and Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

After checking behind him, he set off up the road. He was going to be late meeting with McGonagall, but that was the least of his worries at the moment. He tried not to think about the events he just experienced on his long walk up to the school. He instead wondered what this upcoming meeting might be about.

In no time, he had reached the main gate. Fortunately for him, it wasn't locked at the moment and he was able to enter unassisted. He wasn't sure he could summon enough happiness to form a Patronus just now. From here it was a short walk across the school grounds and up to the large, oak doors at the entrance.

Lost in his thoughts, he didn't even notice that his feet were carrying him along the familiar path to the headmaster's office. When he snapped out of it, he found himself standing in front of the gargoyle guarding the entrance.

"Lemon drop," Harry spoke clearly.

The gargoyle sprang to life and hopped out of the way, allowing access to the moving staircase behind it. Harry hopped on and rode it up to the landing at the top. The large wooden door to the office still had an ornate griffin knocker, which Harry used. The door immediately opened for him, and Harry stepped into the office.

It looked quite similar to how it did when Dumbledore was headmaster. The only difference was the absence of the tiny silver instruments around the room, and the phoenix perch. All the Headmasters and Headmistresses, including Dumbledore, were asleep. The only person that noticed Harry's arrival was behind the large, claw-footed desk.

Professor McGonagall was sitting there, dressed in crimson robes, looking agitated. She seemed to be working on several letters, but glanced up as Harry entered.

"Good morning, Mr. Potter," she greeted him, shuffling the parchment to the side to clear room. She gestured to one of the chairs facing the desk, saying, "Please, sit down."

"Headmistress," he addressed her, bowing slightly, before taking the nearest chair. "I'm sorry I'm late, I was just… just at the Burrow…"

"Of course," McGonagall said with a dismissive wave of her hand, understanding perfectly. "The reason I asked to meet with you, firstly, is I was hoping you had changed your mind with regards to informing me where you went the night Dumbledore was killed."

Harry hesitated for a second, but answered, "I'm afraid I haven't. That information is too important."

McGonagall's lips pressed into a thin line, showing her disapproval of his answer. "Come now, Potter," she said, "if it is important, I should need to be informed."

"I'm sorry, but what we were doing, it's…" Harry thought for a second, and then went on with a slight smirk, "it's _crucial_ to defeating Voldemort. He can't find out."

"I should think that I, of all people, can be trusted," McGonagall countered.

"It's not a matter of trust. I trust you completely. However, the fewer people that know, the better," explained Harry. "Voldemort has many useful means of extracting information, and, while I trust you would never give anything away willingly, he could still get it out of you. But, he can't discover what isn't known in the first place."

"Very well," McGonagall told him, looking somewhat satisfied by his explanation. "The next thing is, I would like to offer you the position of Head Boy for the upcoming school year."

Harry had an idea that McGonagall wanted to know about the night Dumbledore died, but he certainly wasn't expecting this. "Head Boy?" he asked in disbelief. "But I'm not even a prefect."

"Regardless, I don't think anyone will argue that you are not qualified," she said simply.

"I'm honoured, professor, I really am," Harry told her, "but I'm afraid I won't be attending Hogwarts this year."

"I beg your pardon."

"It's not that I don't want to, but I have a lot of work to do, and it's much more important than classes would be."

"You do realise this year is when you take your N.E.W.T.'s?" she asked sternly.

"Yes, Headmistress, but they won't help me much if Voldemort takes over the world," Harry stated, hoping she would understand.

"You're mind is made up then?" Harry nodded. "If you're work will put an end to this war, then I can hardly disagree with your decision. Though I'm quite sure I don't approve of you taking this on alone."

"Thank you," Harry told her, ignoring her second remark.

"Should you need assistance, know that the Order will aid you in any way they can," said McGonagall. "That includes myself."

Harry thanked her again, but asked, "How is the Order faring?"

"Not well, I'm afraid," she said with a sigh. "It seems we were more dependant on Dumbledore than we thought. We are still functioning, but with much less organisation. As you can imagine, business doesn't get done as quickly as it used to." She looked up at the most recent Headmaster's portrait.

"I noticed Grimmauld Place hadn't been occupied in a while," said Harry conversationally.

"Ah, yes, I heard you talking with Remus yesterday. I assume all the wards are working properly?" McGonagall asked.

"As far as I know."

"Albus had altered them last year after the house came into your possession. He fixed it so they would respond to you, so that if anything happened to him, the wards wouldn't fall," she explained.

"But what other wards are set up?" asked Harry.

"I'm not exactly sure. I suggest you study a book on warding when you get a chance. It's very difficult magic to perform, but you should be able to become attuned to them and know when they are working or not."

"I will be sure to do that," Harry told her.

"Oh, another thing, I've learned that your house elf, Kreacher I believe, is working here in the kitchens," she said. "I talked to him about going back to work for you while you're living at Grimmauld Place. Also, another elf, Dobby, expressed an interest as well."

"I probably could use some help around the house. I'm not much of a cook, no matter how much practice I had," said Harry thoughtfully. "If it's all the same, I'd prefer Dobby. I don't like the idea of Kreacher sneaking around while I'm sleeping."

"Perfectly understandable," McGonagall said, "I shall send him over when we are done here."

"Was there more?" asked Harry, about to stand up.

"One more thing," McGonagall told him. "Albus has left several of his possessions for you, in the event something happened to him. It's time you receive them."

She stood up and walked to a shelf behind her, where a small, lidded box sat. Harry watched her lift it up and set in on the polished wood of the desk in front of him. He had no idea what Dumbledore might have left him.

"I shall be down in the kitchens informing Dobby of his new position. Please excuse me," she told him, and briskly strode out of the office.

Harry turned back to the box, his heart quickening at the prospects of what lay inside. He undid the brass latch and lifted open the paneled lid, revealing the contents.

The first thing Harry noticed was a round, stone basin, its rim etched with unfamiliar runes, and a white, shimmering light coming from the bowl. It was Dumbledore's Pensieve. Sitting next to it were several tiny corked bottles of swirling gas. Harry assumed them to be the thoughts he had been shown during the previous year. Dumbledore had probably wanted Harry to review them.

Laying behind the Pensieve was the only know relic of Godric Gryffindor: the sword Harry had pulled out of the Sorting Hat back in his second year. The light from the Pensieve caused the bright red rubies of the hilt to glow, as well as the thin, silver blade.

Harry picked up the sword and held it in front of him, sensing the ancient magic it radiated. For a moment, he thought he saw the Sorting Hat shift slightly, but figured it to be a trick of the light. He ignored it and slowly waved the sword through the air several times, the blade ringing ever so softly, before he set it back in the box.

The next item was Gaunt's ring, the destroyed Horcrux. Harry picked it up and ran his finger down the crack in the obsidian stone, the only proof that the piece of soul had been expelled from it. When he was done looking at it, he set it down next to the other destroyed Horcrux, Riddle's diary. Harry assumed Dumbledore must have saved it after he realised what it was.

All that remained unexamined was a sealed envelope bearing a phoenix stamp. On the front was Harry's name, written in the familiar looping handwriting of the late headmaster. Harry quickly tore it open and read:

_Harry,_

_I write this knowing perfectly well that my time in this life is short. When I am gone, it will be up to you to finish our work. I have made sure to impress upon you the importance of the Horcruxes. I leave this as my last lesson to you. My last instructions._

_You and I together have gone as far as possible with the facts we have, in determining the vessels and locations of Lord Voldemort's soul. You know what more you have to do. I regret leaving you with yet another burden. We are fortunate that I lasted as long as I did, but we both knew this day must come. After all, this is no longer my battle. It is yours and yours alone. _

_There is no doubt in my mind that you will complete the task ahead of you. Use every resource you have available, including your best friends. Do not resist asking for help merely because this is your fight. But most of all, you must believe in yourself and your abilities. You are a far greater wizard than you think. In many ways, you have surpassed even me. You must understand the power you have. So now, I must explain something to you… something I didn't have time to tell you before my death._

_As I've told you, Voldemort believed completely in the prophecy. He gave it meaning. Had he not heard it, he never would have come after you or indirectly given you the very power to defeat him. And it is that power that I must tell you about._

_Did you never wonder why Voldemort gave your mother a chance to live? He fought and killed your father without hesitation, so why would he give your mother a choice? The answer is simple enough. I've told you what happened to Tom Riddle's mother after giving birth to him. Tom saw this refusal to save her own life as an abandonment on Tom himself. He believed his mother did not care about him, and thus gave up on life. And this, in my opinion, is the main cause for how young Tom became Lord Voldemort: his lack of emotional attachments, his refusal to rely on anyone other than himself, his lust for power, his hate of anything that makes him seem common, all of this._

_This was the reason for him allowing Lily to live. He wanted her to abandon you to death in the same way Merope did with him. He wanted Lily to run and save herself and leave you behind. The one type of magic Voldemort cannot and will not ever understand is Love (which I believe is also because of Merope). Because of this, he couldn't understand anyone sacrificing themselves to save another._

_However, as you know, your mother would not give you up even to save herself. And this, I believe, is where your protection came about. Your mother begged Voldemort to kill her and spare you. And when he killed her to get to you, he sealed the magical contract she was trying to invoke. Your mother really was the brightest witch of her age. Did you not find it curious, the difference between the cool and confident vision of Lily you saw in the Pensieve and the hysterical, screaming woman she was before she died? She knew that, after begging Voldemort to kill her instead, you would be protected from him. She called upon a very ancient magic (very similar, but not as formal, to the Unbreakable Vow) and you were protected when Voldemort turned his wand on you. The curse rebounded on him._

_Your mother gave you the power you need to defeat Voldemort. And in her sacrifice, she marked you as well. I am surprised that you never noticed from your photo album, but your eyes were not always green. Not until I saw you that night did I notice the profound change. With the war going on, few people saw you before your parents died. And those that did seemed to forget by not seeing you for ten years. You really do have your mother's eyes. She lives on in you. Just like your father does, with your Patronus._

_I regret not being able to share this information with you until now. I regret so many things. I hope you will one day forgive me for what I have put you through, directly and indirectly. I know I seem no better than the Minister, seeing you as merely a weapon, an instrument for defeating Voldemort. But please realise my actions were to protect you. I hoped to give you what I know you have been wanting ever since reentering the wizarding world: a normal life. I'm afraid that is not possible in a world with Voldemort. It is not fair that you have carried such a burden for your entire life, or that you have experienced more horrors than anyone should have to endure in one hundred lifetimes. But you can defeat Voldemort. You have the power to end this. Don't forget who you are fighting for._

_Your servant, in life and in death,_

_Albus Dumbledore_

Harry looked up several minutes later, his emerald green eyes shining brightly.

.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.

He stood at the window for the longest time, mulling over his thoughts as he gazed down to the grounds.

He had never missed Dumbledore more than he did now. There were moments in the past when he had been furious with the old man for controlling his life in such a way. And for making him feel like nothing but a pawn. But Harry finally understood the necessity of it all. Defeating Voldemort was more important than anything. Even if Harry's happiness had to suffer occasionally, it was a small price to pay. He knew that Dumbledore had meant well.

In addition, while Harry had always tried not to think too much about the night his parents died, it was nice to understand exactly what had taken place. It was a relief to get rid of the uncertainty after so long. He noticed his eyes in his reflection in the window. _My mother's eyes_. That had come as the biggest shock to him. He had always wondered why it was only his mother's, and not both his parent's deaths that protected him. He liked to think that his father would have done the same, had he been given the same choice as his mother.

And then he remembered something Dumbledore had said to him at the end of his second year. "It is our choices, Harry, that show who we truly are, far more than our abilities." _Great man, Dumbledore,_ Harry thought. His father did have a choice. He could have left his family behind and ran. Or he could have pleaded with Voldemort. But he faced him head on, to protect his wife and child. A true Gryffindor to the end.

Harry was roused from his thoughts by the sound of the office door opening and a squeaky voice calling out to him.

"Harry Potter sir!"

Harry wheeled around to see McGonagall reenter, followed closely by the house elf Dobby. Dobby looked as excited as Harry had ever seen, bobbing up and down around McGonagall's heels.

"Hi Dobby, it's been a while," Harry said, walking over to them.

"Too long, sir! Miss Headmistress is saying Dobby can come work for you," the tiny elf stated.

"Only if you want to, of course," answered Harry, but he knew what Dobby would choose.

"It would be an honour sir!" he exclaimed, beaming up at Harry with watery eyes.

"Very well then," McGonagall said, walking back to her desk to sit down. "Due to the nature of Mr. Potter's condition, we will keep you on the payroll here. I don't believe he will require your services for longer than this year."

"Miss is too kind, far too kind," Dobby squeaked. "Dobby will do an excellent job." He bowed low to the ground.

"I know you will Dobby," said Harry with a smile.

Dobby beamed back and said, "Dobby will go and get his belongings, and then move to Harry Potter's house."

"That will be great Dobby," Harry told him, and then indicated to the box of Dumbledore's effects. "Could you take this back with you? I have a few more errands to run. The house is at Number 12, Grimmauld Place."

"Of course, Harry Potter sir," Dobby nodded enthusiastically. "Dobby will have Harry Potter's lunch ready for him when he returns."

He grabbed the box and quickly disappeared with a loud _crack_.

Harry turned back to McGonagall sitting at her desk, who was looking intently at him.

"Well, Mr. Potter," she started, "I daresay I will see you again soon." The faintest trace of a smile played on her lips.

"Indeed, Headmistress," Harry said. "I wish you the best," he added with a small bow.

"Oh, one more thing," she said in an afterthought, "Feel free to borrow any books from the library you might need. You have my permission to access the Restricted Section."

"Thank you. Good day."

She nodded her head and Harry turned and left. He was very thankful that McGonagall understood Harry couldn't return to school. He replayed their meeting several times in his head as he strolled through the castle. He had decided to take a short walk through the halls and a quick search through the library, not knowing when he would be there again.

After half an hour had passed, Harry returned to the grounds and walked down the path towards Hogsmeade. When he felt the Anti-Apparation Ward fade, he whirled on the spot and disappeared.

.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.

After reappearing in Diagon Alley, Harry made a quick stop at the bank before he started shopping. Harry spent nearly two hours scouring both Diagon and Knockturn Alleys, entering every book shop he found. By the time he returned to Grimmauld Place, he had an incredibly extensive collection of texts on defensive and offensive magic, Occlumency, warding, several subjects he would've taken this year, and even the Dark Arts. Harry didn't particularly like the idea of studying the Dark Arts, let alone using them. But he reminded himself that Voldemort would not fight fair, and most of his Death Eaters probably didn't know the meaning of the word. It was best to be prepared. He resolved himself to the fact that he may have to fight fire with fire if he wanted to survive.

And so, he trained. And he studied. Every waking moment was spent researching in the library or training. He had cleared out the upstairs sitting room and reinforced it heavily, creating a place where he could practice spells and dueling without destroying anything.

Harry wasted no time, pushing himself as hard as was physically and mentally possible. By the time September first came, he knew for a fact that he was more powerful than any students at Hogwarts, and possibly even some of the teachers. And he was ready to begin searching the country for the Horcruxes.

A/N: Review if you wish.


	5. Discovery

**Chapter 5**

**Discovery**

With the first of September came a recently unfamiliar occurrence. Harry was roused from his uneasy sleep by the percussive sound of thick raindrops hammering against the window.

_Where am I?_ was Harry's first conscious thought, immediately noticing he wasn't in the four-poster bed of his room. He squinted around the currently unknown room for his glasses, eventually finding them resting on a stack of books nearby. After slipping them on, he realized he was in the library and remembered having fallen asleep on the sofa while researching.

Still trying to wake up, Harry slowly slid off the couch, knocking several books to the ground with him. He struggled to find his balance for a few minutes before he navigated through the piles of useless tomes to the door.

He climbed down three flights of stairs to reach the basement kitchen, where he found his breakfast waiting for him on the large, wooden table. It had only taken a few days for Dobby to learn Harry's favourite foods and a few more to perfect the preparation, easily outstripping the Hogwarts kitchens. Dobby had made sure to vary what he served so that Harry always ate something different. It wasn't much, but Harry appreciated it over a monotony of the same thing every single day. Number 12 wasn't close to the size of Hogwarts and Harry occasionally felt trapped being inside all day. A variety helped him to ward off cabin fever.

He sat down in front of the plate of sausages, eggs, and several slices of toast with jam, as well as a steaming cup of coffee. With all of Harry's late nights, he had taken to drinking coffee with his breakfast, and then having tea the rest of the day.

As with every morning, Harry looked around for a sign of Dobby, but he was nowhere to be found. No matter how much Harry insisted, the tiny elf would not sit and eat with him, always with the excuse of more housework to be done. So, he was forced to read the paper while he ate in order to stave off boredom.

A rolled up copy of the _Daily Prophet_ sat next to his plate, and he opened it up while taking a bite of sausage. Of late, it was a daily occurrence to find Death Eater activity or Dementor attacks on the front page. Today was no different. Harry started to read as he spread jam on a slice of toast.

_**You-Know-Who Continues Reign of Terror**_

_As is well known, the greatest dark lord in a century (some say of all time) is at large and wreaking havoc on the Island. With Ministry resources at an all-time low, forces are spread far too thin to have any effect on countering the attacks._

_One such attack occurred late last night in the Muggle town of Witney, just west of Oxford. Reports of the devastation are still coming in. The Ministry has already confirmed over one hundred fifty killed in the attack, with a final estimate at nearly triple that. While You-Know-Who's servants number far to small to do that kind of damage, the death and destruction makes it almost certain that a large number of Dementors, and at least one giant, took part in the attack._

_From what can be gathered, several groups of You-Know-Who's servants, the Death Eaters, apparated to different locations around the town and began killing everyone in sight. Ministry Aurors arrived far too late to apprehend anyone, and managed to save only a few lives. Ten separate Dark Mark's were counted in the sky._

_The attacks are becoming more and more frequent, occurring before the Ministry can finish cleaning up the previous ones. As always, anyone with any information about the whereabouts of You-Know-Who or his Death Eaters is to contact the Ministry at once._

_In related news, the Minister of Magic, Rufus Scrimgeour, has proposed a war-time tax to help battle You-Know-Who more effectively. Voting is to take place today. More information on the tax can be found on page 3._

_Just what everyone needs to hear, _Harry thought, somewhat unsettled by the frequent announcements of how poorly the Ministry was doing against Voldemort. He had to constantly assure himself that there was nothing he could do, and the only thing he could focus on was his current task. He flipped through the rest of the paper as he finished his breakfast, not finding anything else important.

After dropping his plate in the sink, Harry headed back upstairs. He stopped in his bedroom only to grab an empty inkpot, and then walked down the hall to his training room.

It looked quite different than it had when it was a sitting room. Harry had removed all the furniture and padded the walls and ceiling. There were also several unseen changes: he had magically shielded the entire room, protecting it from any impact and spell damage, and made it so the temperature would adjust to compensate for his increasing body temperature. It wasn't the Room of Requirement, but it served its purpose. Glancing out the window, he noticed the rain had not let up.

Harry set the inkpot down on the hardwood floor and sat next to it. He usually saved this part of his practicing for later in the day, but this day he had and errand to run. He hoped that having some success in his wandless magic might lighten his mood for later.

Harry started by relaxing completely. He allowed his mind to go completely blank while easing all the tension out of his muscles. His breathing slowed considerably and he could almost feel himself melting into the floor.

Once he was at ease, he focused his mind. He concentrated his magical power and reached out mentally. It was almost like having a separate set of eyes. He could sense all the magic around him so clearly that he could almost 'see' it. In his mind's eye, the walls were glowing with their protective charm, as were the ceiling and windows.

He then turned his attention to the inkpot on the floor. He had decided early on to use a small object until he got the hang of it. In his mind, he reached out with his magic and focused it on the small bottle. He tried poking at it… nothing happened. Concentrating harder, he tried again. It moved a fraction of an inch, hardly noticeable. But Harry knew it had worked and his magic was at the right level.

Feeling confident, he allowed his magic to envelop the inkpot, completely surrounding it. He then tried to lift it. Surprisingly, it worked on the first try. The tiny object raised a few centimeters off the ground and hovered there as Harry held it up.

Harry could usually get this far, but that was the extent of his ability. But this time felt different. Growing bolder, he opened his eyes, while still concentrating, and watched the inkpot bob up and down ever so slightly. Harry used his mind to move it higher and higher.

Before he knew it, the inkpot was bumping against the padded ceiling and Harry allowed himself a smile. He had to focus even harder on bringing it down without letting it fall, but he did it perfectly. He did this several more times before he was satisfied and moved on.

Thirty minutes later, Harry was sending the inkpot zooming around the room with a wave of his hand, smirking proudly. It was at that moment that Dobby appeared in the room next to him. Harry brought the ink bottle back and caught it easily before turning to the house elf.

"Harry Potter's wandless magic is greatly improving," Dobby commented with a wide grin, which Harry returned.

"Thanks, Dobby. I think I'm finally getting the hang of the basics," said Harry.

"Forgive my interrupting, but Harry Potter should be getting ready. It's past ten o'clock, sir," Dobby explained.

Harry checked his watch, finding it was a quarter past ten. "Oh… thanks Dobby. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Harry Potter is too kind," Dobby bowed low to the ground. "Good luck and be careful, Harry Potter."

"Always."

Dobby disappeared with a crack, leaving Harry alone. He headed out of the training room and back to his own, thinking about the last half hour. He was very pleased with the progress he had made, and he felt that he had gotten past the hardest part. His advances were certain to keep him in a good mood for the rest of the day.

After a quick shower, he came back into his room to get dressed. Before putting on his shirt, he slid on the black Dragon hide vest. The first time he had worn it, it was stiff and slightly uncomfortable. But, with his several trips outside of Number 12 wearing it, it had loosened up considerably, fitting to him like a second skin. In fact, it was so comfortable and lightweight that he occasionally forgot he had it on at all. The boots were the same way, and he pulled them onto his feet easily.

Once completely dressed, he grabbed his wand and his Invisibility Cloak, and felt in his pockets to make sure he had everything else. Then, he reached out with his senses and checked the wards.

Harry had only recently learned how to tap into them, and, while he couldn't yet create his own, he could alter and adjust the existing ones. Originally, the Anti-Apparition ward allowed Apparition in and out of the house, but only in the entrance hall. The first thing Harry did was make the whole house protected, but changed it so that only he could pass through the wards.

After confirming that every ward was still functioning, he threw on his Invisibility Cloak and headed off.

.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.

Five minutes later, Harry stood on Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, leaning against a column near the entrance. It had just turned 10:30, and Harry hoped he hadn't arrived too late. Fortunately, he didn't have to get out in the dismal weather. It would have certainly ruined his good mood.

He had been watching the students passed through the barrier and head on to the train. He saw several friends, namely Ginny, that he would have liked to call out to. But he had to keep reminding himself of why he had come. The hardest thing was seeing Ron and Hermione, walking by hand in hand. Ron had made a joke as the passed, but Hermione didn't laugh. She merely walked along, not speaking, with a distant look in her eye.

_Nobody would've laughed at that,_ Harry told himself, wishing he could believe it.

Harry had thought about what he did every day since it happened. He even had occasional nightmares about it, always ending with Hermione striking him, shattering everything they had with that one blow. But every time he awoke, he would feel even worse, realizing that Hermione didn't do anything to their friendship. Harry had done it all himself.

Harry was roused from his thoughts when the reason he was waiting walked through the gate. A boy Harry knew well strode through, pulling his trunk behind him. Though he had grown quite a bit taller and leaner over the break, Harry could recognize that round face anywhere.

"_Neville_," Harry whispered, calling to his roommate.

Neville stopped and looked around, not sure if he had heard his name called or not.

"_Neville, over here_," Harry whispered again.

Neville looked right at him, but didn't see anything. "W-Who's there?" he asked timidly.

"It's Harry, I'm under the Invisibility Cloak. I need to talk to you," Harry explained.

Neville dragged his trunk over to him and set it down. "Harry, what's up?" he asked. "Why are you hiding? And where's your trunk?"

"I'm not going back to Hogwarts this year," said Harry. "I just came to talk to you."

"What are you talking about!? How can you know go back to Hogwarts?" Neville exclaimed, drawing a few people's attention over to him.

"Pretend you're searching for something in your trunk. And keep your voice down," Harry told him, realizing it wouldn't be good for Neville to be seen having an animated conversation with a stone column.

Neville crouched down, opened his trunk, and began rummaging through it. "Well?" he asked after a minute.

Harry crouched down next to him and said, "I've got work to do. Something very important. And I don't have time for classes."

"Is it- does it have to do with You-Know-Who?" Neville asked warily.

Harry nodded at first, forgetting he couldn't be seen. "Yes. It's the most important thing anyone can do to end this war. I can't tell you about it here, but trust me, it takes a whole lot to keep me away from Hogwarts."

"It must be dangerous," said Neville. "Don't you need help? I could come with you and-"

"No," said Harry simply, cutting him off. "I'll have assistance when I need it. Besides, I need you to stay at Hogwarts and help me."

"What can _I_ do to help you?" Neville asked, shifting a pair of socks and digging deeper in his trunk.

Harry reached in his pocket for something, saying, "I need you to keep me updated on what's going on at the school."

Neville looked up at him (or rather at where he was), frowning, and asked, "But how am I going-"

"With this," Harry stopped him, and set Sirius' two-way mirror inside Neville's trunk.

Neville picked it up skeptically and looked it over. "What? Do I have something in my teeth?" he asked.

Harry chuckled and said, "No, it's a two-way mirror. I've got one just like it. All you have to do is speak my name into that one, and you'll see my face. Then we can talk to each other."

"Brilliant!" Neville exclaimed, turning the mirror over in his hands to examine it thoroughly. After a second, he stopped and frowned again. "But why me? Why not Ron? Or Hermione?"

"Oh…" Harry started. He had expected Neville might ask this. "Well, they're both kinda brassed with me right now. Besides, I trust you more with something like this."

"Really?" whispered Neville, still looking at the mirror. He was unable to keep the awe from his voice.

"Of course. You've never let me down before. You and Luna were the only ones that showed up when the others called the D.A. back in June," said Harry. "And, well…you know Ron, he can be a bit hot-headed at times. And Hermione… she's a bit…" Harry trailed off, trying to keep his thoughts from turning back to her.

"Strict?" prompted Neville.

"Mmmm," was all Harry could say. He remained silent for another minute before regaining his focus. "So you think you can do this for me?" he asked his friend.

"Sure, Harry. You can count on me," Neville said enthusiastically. "I'll keep you updated and let you know if anything strange is going on."

"Great," Harry replied. "One more thing. Can you give this to McGonagall for me?" he asked, tossing his Quidditch Captain badge into the trunk.

"Wow, you must be serious about not coming back," Neville joked, picking up the badge and putting it in his pocket.

Harry smirked, and said, "Well, I've realized there are more important things than games. Like my friends' lives."

Neville nodded in understanding. They kneeled there in silence until the train whistled loudly. Neville looked up and noticed all the students scurrying to get aboard. "Well, I'd better go," he said.

"I trust I'll see you again soon," Harry told him, standing back up.

"Of course you will," replied Neville, with a smirk, and he tapped on the mirror. His voice then dropped to a serious tone. "Listen, Harry… if you need any help, any at all, I'm your man."

"Thanks, Neville," Harry said, touched by his words. "I'll remember that. But for now, just keep in touch with me."

"I will. And I won't let you down," Neville told him.

"I know you won't."

"Good luck, Harry," said Neville, standing up. He then picked up his trunk and hurried off towards the train. Harry watched in amusement as several items flew out of the trunk before Neville remembered to latch it. A few seconds later, he was gone.

Harry leaned back against his column, deciding to stick around until the train was gone. He knew Voldemort wasn't above attacking students, and he wasn't sure how much additional protection was around. To be honest though, Harry didn't know how much help he would be if something went wrong. He hadn't fought with the Death Eaters since the end of his fifth year, and though he had grown a lot since then, the Death Eaters were still vicious and sadistic.

For a moment, he allowed himself to think about that night at the Ministry, something he hadn't done more than a handful of times in the past year. Even though they escaped without any casualties or serious injuries, Harry didn't count it as a victory by any stretch of the imagination. The only reason they were so fortunate was because of the prophecy recording. Had that not been an issue, their attackers would not have hesitated to use lethal force. While confident in his own skills, Harry was still somewhat reluctant to confront a Death Eater now, as said skills would be the only thing keeping him alive.

Another loud whistle brought Harry back to the present and he looked up in time to see the scarlet steam engine slowly pull out of the station. Harry had tried hard to mask from Neville just how much he wished he was going back to Hogwarts. Nowhere else in the world had he ever felt more at home. The meeting with Neville had gone quite well and he was really hoping to retain his good mood, but the current thoughts were threatening to do just the opposite. He merely had to remind himself that, the sooner he got rid of Voldemort, the sooner he could go back to school. And things could go back to normal.

At last, the final car disappeared from view, leaving the platform fairly empty. There were a few parents still queuing up at the gate to leave, as well as a handful of guards, who were making one final check of the area.

As Harry watched them, he heard the faintest noise to his left. It was a dull _clunk_ of wood on the concrete floor. Harry grinned widely, not bothering to glance over. He knew he wouldn't see anything.

"Good morning, Moody," he said out loud, mentally picturing the look of shock that must have adorned the Order member's face. Another soft _clunk_ was heard, as if the invisible man had taken a step back.

"How could you tell?" asked a gruff voice Harry knew well. It sounded from right beside him.

Still grinning, Harry answered, "You're not a graceful as you used to be, old man."

"Listen sonny," the ex-Auror said, sounding somewhat annoyed, "I was the best at catching dark wizards for over half a century. And my skills haven't declined a bit."

"Maybe not," countered Harry. "But your memory is certainly going, forgetting to put a Silencing Charm on that stick you walk on."

Moody was silent for a second, before growling, "Damn you, Potter. I won't have some young upstart telling me how to do my job… but I guess I should have seen this coming. What, with your mother's wit and your father's cheek, it was only a matter of time 'til you realised your potential."

Harry couldn't hold back from laughing anymore, and Moody even chuckled slightly. "You've got some nerve, lad, I'll give you that," Moody said, the humor evident in his voice.

"So why are you lurking back here?" Harry asked.

"Order business," was the answer he got. "McGonagall wanted some extra security this year. She roped me in to being stationed at the school."

"That's good," Harry told him. "If anyone can watch over that place, you can."

"Right you are, m'boy," said Moody, as if this was obvious. His dimmed slightly as he added, "Though, I'll be quite pleased when this is over and I can go back to retirement."

"I expect we'll all be grateful to relax when this ends," Harry replied. "I take it there weren't any problems with the train?"

"Nope," said Moody. "Everything went as planned. Save for seeing you hiding over here, that is."

Harry smiled and explained, "I had to come and meet with someone. And I didn't want to be seen."

"The Longbottom boy, was it?" Harry nodded. "Yeah, McGonagall informed us you wouldn't be attending. Some of the other Order members demanded she force you back, or at least have protection constantly tailing you."

"Molly." It wasn't a question.

"Among others," Moody went on. "But the rest of us know you can take care of yourself."

"Thanks," Harry told him, genuinely appreciative for being treated like an adult.

"You won't often hear me speak ill of Dumbledore," Moody started, "but he could be a bit thick-headed when it came to your safety."

Harry understood perfectly what he meant. "It was a bit annoying at times. Though, while I didn't agree with his methods, I know he meant well. And I respect his wisdom."

"He really was sorry for what he put you through," said Moody, lowering his voice.

"I know," Harry replied softly.

"And he was proud of all you accomplished," Moody went on.

"I know," whispered Harry, looking down at the ground.

They both stood there for several minutes. Even though the platform was now completely deserted, they still remained hidden under their Invisibility Cloaks. The two of them were lost in thoughts of the late headmaster.

It was Moody who broke the silence first. "Well, I've got to meet with a few contacts before the train gets to Hogwarts, so I should be off."

"Right," Harry said vacantly, slowly refocusing his attention.

"Just remember your training and keep your eyes open," Moody told him.

"Constant vigilance, huh?" Harry smirked.

"Right-o, lad. You know how to reach me. Good luck," said Moody.

"You too."

Harry heard the soft_ pop_ of Moody Disapparating. Having done everything he had come for, Harry didn't wait around any longer. He Disapparated as well, leaving Platform Nine and Three-Quarters for what may have been the last time.

.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.

Harry would never admit that he felt even the slightest bit of relief when Dumbledore died. This was, for the most part, because he _didn't_ feel that way. True, Dumbledore could be frustrating at times, with his half-truths and his "white lies". And, as he had told Moody, there were several times when Harry didn't agree with the Headmaster's judgment.

However, in the grand scheme of things, Harry knew Dumbledore was much wiser than himself, and there were more things at stake than his own personal happiness. He had learned to accept this, however grudgingly, as he knew it was important to the big picture. And so, however resentful he was of some of Dumbledore's decisions, Harry still appreciated the man's influence on his life. He, in no way, had wanted Dumbledore to meet his end when, and how, he did.

That being said, Harry was quite enjoying his newfound sense of freedom. Even though he rarely left Number 12, the fact remained that he could go out at any time. And it was _his_ decision to stay cooped up in his godfather's house.

His trip to King's Cross had lifted his spirits even more than his earlier progress in his wandless magic. Seeing all his friends and speaking to Neville and Moody had put him in such a good disposition that he immediately went back to training as soon as he arrived home. With a brand new enthusiasm, he perfected a dozen new spells and worked on his dueling, going for three hours straight.

And now, he was on a break from his research, taking one of his walks around the old house. It was something he had begun not long after moving in. With so many rooms, it was a good way to temporarily clear his head, as well as discover the secrets of the aging Black house.

Harry had already discovered numerous hidden passages and hallways, as well as some secret rooms. One such room was full, from floor to ceiling, with a vast assortment of medieval weaponry and armor. Harry had experimented with a few, enjoying the size and balance of the broadswords, but finding one of the flails to be far too heavy and unwieldy. He had actually hoped to learn some sword fighting techniques, wanting to call upon Gryffindor's sword if he needed to.

Another room he had stumbled upon was the Black's potion lab. Having no idea how he came across it the first time, it was several days before he saw it again. But, once he had learned how to operate the hidden door in the first floor sitting room, he was able to access the lab at any time. It was completely stocked with every potion Harry had ever made, and twice that number of ones he had never seen before. On top of that, what seemed like every ingredient known to wizard kind was present. Harry hadn't much time to use the lab, and it wasn't one of his priorities at the moment, but he knew it would be helpful in the future.

On this day's wanderings, Harry found himself in one of the first rooms he had visited during the summer before his fifth year. He stood in the drawing room, in front of the large tapestry of the Black family tree. It, like the unholy portrait, had survived Sirius' purge; however, unlike the portrait, Harry was glad this was still around. He found the family tree very fascinating, and he looked over all seven hundred years of the Blacks history.

As the rain continued to pound away on the window panes, Harry traced along the family lines with his finger. Every time he came across a name he recognized, he added it to a mental list. He intended to read up on them in his spare time, curious to know more about the Blacks of long ago. Sirius had despised his family and, thus, never spoke about them. But Harry knew that there were many of Sirius' ancestors that were like him, and it seemed some of them were spared from Mrs. Black's wrath.

Eventually, Harry came to his godfather's name. His date of birth now preceded a date of death. Harry noted that the two dates were far too close together. Harry still didn't like to think of his godfather's death, and it was hard not to with it written right in front of him. He forced his eyes away from Sirius' name, and the rested on that of his brother's Regulus.

He too had a date of death, another reminder of how the House of Black was falling. And then, for some reason, Harry felt something very odd in the pit of his stomach. He couldn't explain it, but there was something about seeing Regulus' name that seemed very familiar and meaningful. He stood there for the longest time, thinking, but was unable to come up with any reason for the strange sensation.

Deciding his break was over, he turned away from the tapestry and headed back to the library.

.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.

It was past midnight by the time Harry returned to his bedroom. He was so completely absorbed in his work that he had to force himself away from it. He knew he could have gone on for several more hours, but he had a big day ahead of him and needed to get as much rest as he could.

He noticed he was feeling more drained than he had in a long time. As he started to get undressed, he tried to mentally go over his plan for tomorrow. Unfortunately, he wasn't able to keep focused for very long and decided to simply get into bed as soon as possible.

Harry removed his wand and Dumbledore's card from his pocket and set them both on his nightstand, making sure the former was well within reach. Then he pulled out the locket and tossed it down as well.

It didn't hit very hard, but for some reason, the hinge popped open and the parchment note fluttered out and fell to the ground. Harry bent down to pick it up, but his hand froze an inch away.

The note had opened slightly, and the only writing visible was the name at the end. For several seconds, Harry didn't move one bit. And then it hit him: the reason for that unexplained sensation back in the drawing room. Harry laughed out loud for the longest time, unable to remember when he had felt this kind of relief.

All his previous weariness had vanished with the realization that he had finally found R.A.B.

All the pieces of the puzzle seemed to fall into place in that moment and Harry's mind started racing. He picked up the note and read it in its entirety:

_To the Dark Lord_

_I know I will be dead long before you read this, but I want you to know that it was I who discovered your secret. I have stolen the real Horcrux and intend to destroy it as soon as I can._

_I face death in the hope that when you meet your match, you will be mortal once more._

_R.A.B._

After reading over it several times, Harry stood up and started pacing, trying to put everything together.

Even though he didn't remember the middle name of Regulus Black, there was no way R.A.B. could be anyone other than him. Harry tried to think back over everything he knew about Sirius' brother.

According to Sirius and Lupin, Regulus had been a Death Eater that had tried to run (supposedly out of fear) and was killed on Voldemort's orders only days later.

It was likely that R.A.B. was also killed no more than a few days after abandoning Voldemort and stealing the Horcrux. R.A.B. would have had to be a Death Eater, as he referred to Voldemort as 'the Dark Lord' in the note. He would also need to either be close to Voldemort, or working under someone who was, in order to deduce the existence of a Horcrux. And he would have to have known about the cave. Perhaps, as the lake was full of Inferi, there were Death Eaters designated to traveling there and bringing back members of Voldemort's undead army.

This all seemed to fit. No one knew exactly why Regulus ran, or what work he did while in the ranks of the Death Eaters. In fact, as he looked more closely, he could even see a resemblance in the handwritings of R.A.B. and of his late godfather.

Harry finally stopped pacing, though still grinning like mad, and tried very hard to keep from laughing again. He was ecstatic at finally finding R.A.B., and though he still had to locate the real locket, Harry felt like he had taken a huge jump forward.

He first thought that Number 12 would have been an excellent place to hide the real locket, especially if Regulus was on the run and didn't want to be found with it. But Harry soon remembered that the whole house had been cleaned out, and if it had been here, it was likely tossed out with the rest of the dark relics.

Though Harry felt much better, his drowsiness was quickly catching up with him. He wanted to be as rested as possible for the next day's events, so he climbed into bed as soon as he was ready. This would be the first dangerous task he had to leave the house for (not counting his trip to Godric's Hollow earlier in the summer, as Remus had been with him.)

After clearing his mind completely, he lied back and let himself fall deep into sleep, having a much easier time of it than ever before.

A/N: omg… so R.A.B. is Regulus Black? I bet no one saw that coming. Anyway, this took much longer than it should have. But, I had a lot of school work to do, and other things. In case you're wondering, I plan to complete this, regardless of the number (if any) of reviews I get. However, I will appreciate any constructive criticism.

To answer one review:

dada-wild - my reasoning was that Lucius dropped the diary after Dobby threw him down the stairs, and didn't bother retrieving it, as it was ruined. And someone was bound to pick it up later.


	6. The Forgotten Manor

**Chapter 6**

**The Forgotten Manor**

Severus Snape was not in a good mood at all.

He honestly didn't see how things could get any worse for him. Every single one of the other Death Eaters rejoiced in his killing Dumbledore. For Snape, however, it was his worst career move to date.

His boots thumped loudly on the stone floor as he strode through the maze of hallways. Left, right, right, straight, left… he was too caught up in his thoughts to notice where he was going. Fortunately, he had walked this path so many times that his feet carried him along themselves, as if on autopilot.

Before, he had a much more secure position under both his 'employers'. And, while the jobs were high-risk, he was only in trouble if he was found out. His exceptional skills had prevented that.

But now, there was nothing special that separated him from the other Death Eaters. Well, except for his unequaled potion making ability, but that hadn't been needed much at all. He was finally finding out how the other half lives.

The only good thing that could be said was that his years of invaluable service had earned him at least some respect from the Dark Lord. Voldemort had apparently appreciated the caliber of work Snape had done enough to keep the double agent in his inner circle. This had granted Snape some authority over the lesser Death Eaters and kept him in a position to receive a good amount of information.

Admittedly, Snape had some difficulty making the adjustment at first. After the long years of hiding behind so many façades, being back in the line of fire was wearing heavily on his nerves.

One never gets accustomed to the act of killing another human being, as Snape could attest. However, he had no choice in the matter. He did what he was ordered to do, no matter how much he disliked it. So, while he was still able to hide his true thoughts and feelings, inside he had become quite tense and even jumpy at times.

Unfortunately, this was only a partial cause of his current foul mood. Snape had just seen Draco, and brought with him some bad news.

It seemed the protection set up for Narcissa Malfoy was lacking in several areas. After the night Snape fled Hogwarts, his main priority was taking care of Draco and keeping him safe. In fact, he hadn't even given a thought to Narcissa. It had only been on Draco's request that anything be done to keep her hidden. Regrettably, Snape's own resources were far too few to help for long.

Upon hearing that his mother was discovered by a group of Death Eaters, Draco became quite belligerent, yelling at Snape, and coming close to striking his former professor. It was even harder to inform the young man that his mother was killed on the spot minutes after being found.

The silence that hung between them after this revelation, while in reality lasted about a minute, felt like a dozen lifetimes. Ages of excruciating stillness passed as the two wizards locked eyes.

And then something very odd happened. Snape was expecting Draco to react in one of several ways, be it yelling, crying, throwing things, or even attacking his 'bearer of bad news'. But he did nothing of the sort. None of the classic reactions one has upon hearing such information.

Snape watched Draco standing there, now looking down at the ground. Slowly, his former student's jaw clench tightly. And he nodded. Then raised his head, gave Snape a meaningful look, and nodded again.

Snape had been completely bewildered, until Draco spoke. He tried to remember the conversation.

.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.

"_Is that all?" the young man had asked in little more than a whisper._

_Snape was shocked again, and this time did nothing to hide it. "Draco, surely you must have some reaction?" he asked_

_Draco leveled a deadly gaze on Snape and spat, "What do you want? Me to weep for my poor mother? What good would it do?"_

"_Nothing, of course," Snape said, "but don't you feel the least bit sad?"_

"_Of course I do," answered Draco. "She was my mother. But she knew what she was getting in to when she married my father. If anyone's to blame, it's him."_

_Snape was in awe of his former student's level of maturity. He remained silent for a minute, before asking, "So what now then?"_

"_Now? I'm going to kill him."_

_Snape's eyes widened and he quickly asked warily, "You're father?"_

"_No, of course not" -Snape was visibly relieved- "I meant the Dark Lord."_

"_What!? Foolish boy, do you hear what you're saying? Slay the Dark Lord?" Snape demanded._

"_He's dishonoured my family," Draco said calmly, though his voice had raised slightly. "First by allowing my father to be captured and allowing the name Malfoy to be publicly associated with the Death Eaters. Then, by sending me on what should have been a suicide mission last year. And now, he killed my mother!" Draco's voice had grown in volume the whole time and he yelled the last sentence at Snape. He immediately turned away and hastily wiped his eyes on his sleeve._

_Snape stared at the ground and took a deep breath, trying to refocus his mind. "It can't be done, Draco. Not by you. Some say not by anyone. I've heard rumors, whispers that he's achieved immortality."_

"_I'll find a way," Draco stated, not turning back to face the other man._

"_So that's it then?" asked Snape. "After your whole life, planning to follow in your father's footsteps, you're simply switching sides?"_

"_Sides? I'm on my own side. And as for my father…" said Draco. "My father is an arrogant fool. I realise that now. All my life, he taught me to cherish my pureblood heritage, and look down upon 'inferior wizards and witches'. Ridiculous."_

"_What do you mean?"_

"_It's a joke, this whole superiority of blood. If it's so important, then how is Hermione Granger the best student at Hogwarts? Hell, even the Dark Lord is half-blood, and he's the greatest wizard alive," Draco explained. "My father brainwashed me, molded me into what he wanted."_

_Snape couldn't believe what he was hearing. He was even starting to wonder if this really was Draco. "I don't understand… how could you change this radically? Everyone knew your path led to the Dark Lord."_

_Draco scoffed at this. "You know, Snape, if there's one good thing about being locked up here, it's that I've had plenty of time to think. Yes, I sought to enter the Dark Lord's service. For what reason? The only reason anyone else has… power." Draco was now pacing from one side of the tiny room to the other as he spoke. "But what have the Death Eaters done for me? They got my father imprisoned, killed my mother, and are now undoubtedly hunting for me."_

"_I understand what you're going through, Draco, but I don't think-" Snape started, but the young man cut him off._

"_See, I had a bit of a revelation. The Death Eaters don't do anything unless they're ordered by the Dark Lord. So it's obvious that he wants me dead. After I've done everything short of begging to become one of his followers, he pretty much orders my death. It's hard to still worship someone after that," was his lengthy explanation. Draco had stopped pacing and finally turned back to Snape. "As for my father… once I had realised that he had warped my thoughts with his beliefs, I had a much more open mind."_

_Snape was possibly most confused that he hadn't noticed these changes in his former student. But then again, Draco never spoke much anymore. The previous conversation would have been quite welcome, had the topic been something different._

"_So you've made up your mind then?" Snape asked._

_Draco nodded. "I'll find a way. I have to restore honour to the name of Malfoy."_

"_Then there's something I must tell you."_

.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.

Unfortunately, at that precise moment, Snape's forearm had burned and the Dark Mark found there had turned red. And it was because of his summoning from Voldemort that he was currently walking this familiar path.

The torches on the wall brackets flickered as he walked past, as if sensing his volatile mood and cowering from him. He passed several serpents, intricately carved into the rough stone of the walls, indicating that he was close.

After one last turn, he arrived at a pair of giant, oak doors at the end of another hallway. They were so heavy and thick that they could only be opened by magic. Snape had always figured it was a way for Voldemort to subtly show how wizards were far superior to Muggles.

Once he reached the door, Snape rested his hand on one of the large, wrought-iron handles, made of a giant serpent wrapped around itself several times. He took some time to focus and clear his mind, and prepare for his upcoming meeting. Between his demotion and Draco's rebellion, he was very edgy, and he didn't see how an unscheduled meeting with Voldemort would help at all.

Taking a deep breath, he lifted the iron ring and knocked it sharply several times. Snape straightened up and waited, hoping the Dark Lord wouldn't test his patience. After a minute, he heard a loud creaking and saw the doors slowly start to open outwards, offering him entrance.

Snape wasted no time and strode briskly toward the large throne in the center of the room. He kept his eyes straight forward and at the ground as he approached his summoner.

"Ah, Severus, so nice of you to join us…eventually," he heard the familiar high, cold voice call out.

Not responding, he walked up to the throne, kneeled down, and kissed the hem of its occupant's robes. And then he waited. For nearly five minutes, he kneeled there, not daring to move until he was allowed.

"Rise," the previous voice finally hissed.

Snape quickly got to his feet and bowed his head, finally speaking. "Forgive me, Master. I was working on your current task for me. I should have come sooner. I have no excuses."

"I'm sure you know how I feel about disrespect." Voldemort stared at him for some time, considering his options. "Hmmm… you're far too valuable for me to kill. Consider this a warning. Your _only _warning."

"Thank you, my lord. You're far too merciful," Snape said quickly, thankful he wasn't questioned on his exact whereabouts.

"Yes, I am," Voldemort responded. He then looked straight into Snape's eyes with his own piercing, red ones. "Now, I have work for you. My sources inside Hogwarts have told me that Potter did not return to school this term. Which means he can't have much protection. I want him found. While not in school, I'm sure he will make himself an inconvenience to me."

Snape furrowed his brow at this order and hesitantly started, "With all due respect, Master, do you really think the boy is a threat? I taught him for six years, and he is a fool."

"Of course he is," Voldemort hissed. "But he has eluded me for far too long. I want him found and brought before me. Alive."

"Yes, Master. I will assign Avery to this task right away," Snape said with another small bow.

"A logical choice. Be sure he understands the importance." replied Voldemort. He then added, "The charm at Potter's relatives' house will be invalid now. Have them start looking there. And if he's not, have them kill everyone they find."

"On your orders," Snape said. He waited to be dismissed, but Voldemort had something else for him.

"One more thing. Tell Bella I would like to see her. I fear Potter may start snooping around for clues and stumble upon some of our… hidden assets."

"Yes, my Lord."

"That is all," Voldemort told him.

Snape turned on his heel and started for the door, quite relieved at the events of the meeting. He was almost certain he would be punished. He had also expected a more dangerous assignment. It was obvious that he was meant to supervise whomever he delegated the mission to.

"Oh, Snape," Voldemort called to him when he was halfway to the door. "I'm afraid I changed my mind about before… _Crucio!_"

.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.

Harry Potter sat up so fast that by the time he fought through the haze of sleep, he realised he was on the floor. And his shoulder was throbbing painfully.

He had been having a very vivid and realistic dream about Snape and Malfoy and Voldemort. He didn't know if it was the shock that woke him, or the intense pain in his scar. The latter was slowly subsiding now, but had been searing painfully, as if someone had place a branding iron directly on the small bolt of lightning.

As it had happened, when Voldemort cast the Cruciatis Curse, Harry awoke and sat up with so much speed and force that he tumbled forward and rolled off the foot of the bed. And then landed hard on his shoulder.

He was angry with himself for not clearing his mind completely the previous night, but now wasn't the time for that. As soon as the dizziness faded, he grabbed his wand from the nightstand and raced over to the study area of his room. He came to a stop in front of the table next to the fireplace, where Dumbledore's Pensieve rested.

Wasting no time, he placed the tip of his wand to his temple and focused hard on his recent dream. This was a process he had done several times in the recent past. It was a good way to ensure he didn't forget these types of dreams, which was easy to do, and it allowed him to review them later for things he missed.

After a few seconds, he felt a gentle tug at the side of his head. At this, he pulled his wand away, a silvery strand of thought clinging to the point. He then placed it into the Pensieve and tapped the wand to expel the thought. Seeing Snape's face shimmer in the silver fog told him it had work right.

Taking a relaxing breath, Harry turned back to the other side of the room and headed into the shower. Walking along, he absentmindedly rubbed his scar, even though the pain had completely faded.

As he showered, he tried to replay the dream in his mind, but he found the details were slipping away as quickly as the beads of water rolled off his body. Harry would have liked to go into the Pensieve right away and find out as much as he could about the conversations Snape had with Draco and Voldemort. But that would have to wait. He had something much more important to do.

The first thing he did after drying off and putting on a clean pair of pants was slip into his dragon hide vest. He knew that, if any day he was going to need it, this would be the day.

Harry shook those thoughts from his head as he continued getting dressed. He was going to need his wits about him, and it wouldn't help to start worrying and getting paranoid. He put on a fairly loose-fitting pair of jeans, a t-shirt, and a hooded jumper, wanting to have as much mobility as possible. Finally, he pulled on his boots and stood up.

After walking over to the nightstand, he picked up the fake locket and Dumbledore's card and slipped them both into his pockets. In the process, he happened to glance at the two-way mirror resting next to the lamp.

Harry had been surprised to hear from Neville through the mirror last night, when he had just talked to him earlier in the day. Neville had mainly just wanted to see how the mirror worked and tell Harry that they had arrived at school without any problems. Harry was glad to hear the news, and also relieved that his mirror still functioned after it had broken.

Checking the clock, he saw it was half past eight. He still had enough time for a quick breakfast. He grabbed his wand and Invisibility Cloak and headed downstairs.

The whole time he was getting dressed and ready, he was also mentally preparing himself. As he went over what he had to do in his head, he realised this was the first time he was actually happy that Ron and Hermione weren't with him.

Back at Bill and Fleur's wedding, the three of them had had a long talk, ending with Harry convincing them to return to Hogwarts in September. He had also made it sound like he was going back as well, though he never intended to. Harry told them it would be much safer for them and if he needed to leave the school to search during the year, he would take his friends with him.

It was also on that day that the three of them had informed Ginny of what they were up to. She had a right to know, being as close as she was to all of them. Not to mention the fact that she had first-hand experience of one of the Horcruxes, having been possessed by the diary all those years ago.

Upon entering the kitchen, he ceased his reminiscence and brought himself back to the present.

Dobby already had his breakfast set out for him, even though he had awoken far earlier than normal. Not feeling particularly hungry, he only ate the toast and one of the oranges sitting in a bowl on the table. After finishing those, and drinking his coffee, he decided it was time to head out.

"Dobby?" he called out while setting his plate by the sink.

An instant later, the tiny elf appeared before him with a loud _crack_. "Yes, Harry Potter, sir?" he asked, looking up expectantly.

"I'm ready to go. Are you sure you want to come with me? It could be dangerous," Harry asked.

Dobby nodded emphatically, saying, "Of course, Dobby wants to help."

Harry hesitated for a second, but gave in. He knew it would be good to have some help come along. "All right, then. But I've got some rules. First of all, I want you to be right behind me the whole time, and stay hidden."

"Dobby can do that, Harry Potter."

"Good. Now, I don't think we'll run into anyone, but if something happens to me, I want you to go to Remus' house right away. He'll know what to do," Harry went on. "You know how to find him, right?"

"Yes," Dobby nodded.

"Ok. Let's head out then," said Harry.

He drew his wand just to be on the safe side. Harry tried not to think too much about his upcoming task. He wouldn't admit it, but he was fairly nervous. Clearing his mind, he Disapparated with a soft _pop_, followed closely by Dobby.

.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.

Harry landed softly on a dirt path in front of a building he had seen far too many times. He looked up at the ancient and now decrepit Riddle Manor.

It was hard to see clearly through the thick fog that clung to the ground, but he could tell that it wasn't quite the same house he remembered. From what Harry had found out in the previous weeks, after Frank Bryce was murdered inside three years ago, the proprietor of the estate had destroyed the deed. According to him, there were far too many unexplained happenings for anyone to own it.

And so, for three years it stood atop its hill, slowly aging and falling apart.

Just off the side of the house, Harry could make out the outline of the graveyard and the small church behind it. The sight sent a chill down his spine, and he hoped he wouldn't have to go near there.

"Dobby, are you with me?" Harry whispered into the fog.

He saw the air at his feet shimmer slightly, enough for him to see the elf for a split-second before he disappeared again.

"Ok, let's go," said Harry, starting off in the direction of the house.

Harry slowly navigated his way along the winding path that led up to the front door, Dobby right at his heels. The grass and hedges surrounding the path were so overgrown that they impeded his progress in several places. He wished he had brought Gryffindor's sword with him, but he settled on using a Shearing Hex to unblock the path.

Fortunately, hundreds of vines had grown across the trail, which helped to muffle his approach. It normally would have been impossible to stay on course with the path invisible, but the grass on either side was over a foot high.

It wasn't until he was ten feet from the door that he could see the full extent of the damage that time had wrought.

The stone columns that flanked the entrance were completely covered with vines that had creeped their way up and around to other parts of the house. As Harry traced their growth, he saw that every one of the window panes was cracked or shattered. Huge sections of the wood had rotted; some had decayed completely, leaving large holes in the side of the house. Further up, Harry noticed countless shingles had either blown off the roof or wasted away.

Harry walked up to the door, constantly checking all around for any movements. When he was in front of the entrance, he reached out to the rusted door handle. He pulled gently, and found it to be unlocked.

"All right, Dobby. Keep your eyes open," Harry whispered, taking a step back.

He raised his wand and silently cast a Silencing Charm on the rusted (and probably squeaky) hinges before magically forcing the door open. It swung inside, granting them access.

Harry took a deep breath and stepped inside. The fog had almost completely blocked out the morning sun, allowing almost no light inside. Once he and Dobby were in the house, he closed the door behind him and wordlessly lit the tip of his wand. The entrance hall was immediately illuminated in artificial light. Harry took a moment to look around.

The entire room was covered with a thick layer of dust and dirt from countless years of vacancy. To his right was a grand, stone staircase leading to the second floor. He noticed lighter areas in the dust, in the shape of a long, thin trail with footsteps on either side. On his left was a large doorway heading to the dining room.

Harry decided to begin searching on the first floor and walked through the doorway. He could tell the dining room had once been quite lavish in luxury and splendor; now, however, it fit in perfectly with the rest of the house.

The long table was wobbly on its rotting legs and several of the chairs had already collapsed. The stench of decay and mold hung heavy in the air. Over his head, a magnificent crystal chandelier swayed precariously from its lone support that still connected it to the ceiling high above.

"_Reparo_," he muttered, pointing his wand up at the unstable fixture. He watched the supports fix themselves and make the chandelier sturdy. For the time being. Harry didn't fancy having that come crashing down as he was searching elsewhere and scare the life out of him.

He walked over to the china cabinet to his right and tried to open it, but found it locked. He couldn't see any china through the glass, and he didn't care to find out what _could_ be inside, so he left it alone.

Deciding to start his actual searching, he moved over to table and went to work. Using the same technique for perfecting his wandless magic, he closed his eyes and slowly tuned out everything around him. Once he felt his mind go completely blank, he reached out with his senses and felt for any traces of previous magic.

Unfortunately, he found nothing. After several minutes of mentally looking over the entire room, it bore nothing. Harry was disappointed at first, but reminded himself that there were many rooms he still had to check. He opened his eyes and walked through the next door.

The next room he entered was the kitchen. It was in the same shape as dining room. The stone floor was cracked everywhere. Some parts were missing large chunks of stone, where a few of the heavy pots had fallen hard to the ground. The pots that were still hanging above the stove were completely rusted through. One of the doors to the icebox had fallen off its hinges and was laying against the stove, forcing Harry to climb over in order to get past.

At the far end of the kitchen was what looked to be a breakfast room. The table in there had tipped over as two of its legs looked to be completely chewed threw. His first thought after coming across this was a memory of what he and Hermione had seen in the Shrieking Shack. The teeth marks around the legs he found a few feet away looked like those of a small wild animal. This was a small consolation to Harry. He didn't much feel like fighting off a werewolf at the moment.

Harry stopped to scan the kitchen, but again came up with nothing. He also got the same results from the pantry that was in the basement directly beneath the kitchen.

When Harry came back up, he started into the next room, but quickly froze when he heard noises ahead of him. He held his wand in front of him, ready to blast the first thing that moved, and slowly tiptoed into what looked like a sitting room.

He heard the sound again, and his heartbeat quickened. It didn't sound large enough to be human. It was like a soft, steady swishing noise, coming from the other side of an overturned sofa. He edged around it and pointed his still-lit wand toward the ground, where the noise was coming from.

And then Harry froze again when he saw movement in front of him. Something was creeping toward him, just outside the cone of his light. Heart pounding in his chest, he leveled his wand at whatever it was, a dozen powerful curses on the tip of his tongue.

However, as soon as he saw it, he let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. It was merely a snake. For a fraction of a second, he thought of Nagini, she being the only snake he had seen in this house.

But those thoughts vanished as quickly as they had appeared. It was nothing more than a common grass snake, about three feet long. It came to a stop near the edge of the light, staring up at Harry and flicking its tongue rapidly.

Harry wondered what this type of snake would be doing here, so far from its ideal habitat. So, he decided to ask it.

Concentrating hard on the snake, he spoke, hearing both the words and the hissing noises at the same time. "_Hello_."

The snake gazed up at him with what must have been the reptilian version of a quizzical look.

"_My name is Harry_," he went on.

The snake raised its head slightly and hissed at him, but Harry could hear the hissing turn into words inside his head. "_How do you know our words, young Harry?_"

"_I've always known. Are there more of you here?_" Harry asked.

"_There are many. Though they don't come out much. Not since that abomination was here._"

"_He brought another snake with him, didn't he?_" Harry asked, certain that the 'abomination' was a reference to Voldemort.

"_Yes…_" it hissed, "_what you humans call an adder. A horrible creature. It would hunt around the entire house_."

Harry could hear the resentment coming from the other snake, so he changed the subject. "_How long have you lived here?_" he asked.

"_For as long as I can remember, this has been my home._"

"_Is there a place in this house that you stay away from?_" Harry pressed, hoping to get lucky.

The snake bowed its head, but answered, "_Yes… the room behind the stairs. No one enters that room. There is a great evil present_."

There was a good chance that was what Harry was looking for. "_Thank you. I've come here to rid the house of that evil_."

"_That would be appreciated_," was the response. "_Good luck, young Harry. It's not often I get to speak with someone from the outside. I have enjoyed it_."

With that, his new friend slithered away into the darkness. It certainly was a strange experience, but he got some good news out of it. "I think we're in luck, Dobby," Harry said, turning around.

He made his way back to the entrance hall and over to the double doors opposite the doorway of the dining room. He found both doors locked when he tried them. However, it was more than just the handles; some sort of magic was sealing them as well. He could also sense something behind the door… something that didn't belong.

"_Alohomora,_" he tried, and heard the latch click, but the door still wouldn't open. He tried to think of something else. He could always blast it open with a Reductor Curse, but he didn't want to leave any traces that he was here, lest Voldemort came back.

Fortunately, the next spell he tried did the trick. He slowly traced the doorway with his wand and whispered, "_Resigno_." The doors unsealed with a hiss and slowly creaked open. Harry relit his wand and entered.

With his first step into this new room, the temperature dropped dramatically. Harry couldn't explain it, but something in the room was drawing the heat away. He was very glad he had worn a jumper today.

Once he looked around, he found he was in the drawing room, which was, much to Harry's surprise, seemingly untouched. A medium-sized mahogany table stood in the middle of the room, surrounded by several chairs. Along the walls of the room, Harry saw a few smaller tables and leather armchairs, as well as a large fireplace and two bookcases.

All of the furniture was perfectly intact, despite the state of the rest of the house and its own age. Even the leather of all the chairs was well-conditioned, making it look brand new, and the wood in the fireplace showed no signs of having been burned.

Harry grew more and more nervous as he walked around the room. Several times, he could have sworn he heard voices whispering to him. However, no matter how many times he looked over his shoulder, he remained alone. Finding the room way too eerie, he decided to scan it for traces of magic and get away as soon as possible.

He could already feel magic heavy in the air. He once again reached out and sensed all around him. When he was ready, he mentally took a look around. And he nearly screamed. Instead, he gasped and clapped his hands to his mouth while taking several steps back.

Harry had seen something. It had only lasted for a second, but he knew he had seen it. Right in front of him, sitting at the table, he saw three people. An elderly couple and a middle age man. They looked exactly like real people, save for a shimmering red aura surrounding their bodies. And to top it off, all three of them were staring straight ahead, their lifeless eyes wide open.

Harry forced himself to calm down and his heart to slow as he tried to figure out what he had seen. He was actually surprised with himself that he hadn't run screaming from the house. The image itself was bad enough, but there was also the fact that the seeing anyone in the old house would make Harry jump.

He knew the figures weren't ghosts, nor were they the kind of echoes he had seen come out of Voldemort's wand. It was almost like an afterimage. And that was when Harry understood. He saw Voldemort's father and grandparents. This was the room where young Tom Riddle had murdered his family. What he had seen was a glimpse of the magic lingering behind after fifty years.

After getting himself composed again, Harry continued looking around the room. In the back corner of the room, he finally found something. He saw a patch of the ground glowing orange. Opening his eyes, he saw nothing but the wood of the floor. Something was hidden underneath the floorboards.

Harry pointed his wand at the spot and whispered, "_Orior_." He then watched as that section of the floor glowed brightly for a moment, and then faded away, leaving what looked to be a trapdoor sunk into the rest of the floor.

"Ok Dobby, I think this is it," Harry said. He heard the tiny elf taking shallow breaths right behind him. Ignoring it, he grabbed the handle of the trapdoor and pulled it open.

The opening to the passageway was about two square feet, which was plenty wide enough for him. He stepped on the stone ladder and descended into the unknown room. The two of them only had to climb ten feet or so before they got to the rough, stone floor. Harry made his wand glow brighter and took a good look around.

They were standing in a long hallway, lined with dozens of skulls and serpents cast from iron. Harry lit the several torches lining the wall with a wave of his wand, causing the eyes of the skulls to flicker and glow. The good side was the fire quickly warmed him up, helping him forget about the chilling drawing room.

Harry and Dobby started off down the hallway until they came to a large iron door decorated with a serpents head facing directly at them. There was no handle, but it was tightly locked. Nothing Harry tried with his wand or his body would open it. All the while, the giant serpent's head leered at him.

He was nearly dejected when he got another idea. Remembering the Chamber of Secrets, he stared hard at the serpent, concentrating on nothing else. After a few seconds, the eyes started to glow red.

"_Open_," Harry whispered in Parsletongue.

Instantly, the heavy door clicked loudly and swung forward. It was like opening a Muggle bank vault, though the next room was much smaller than Harry expected. He was imagining a giant room full of riches Voldemort had stolen over the years. In reality, there was only one object inside. It was a tall, stone pedestal set in the very center of the room. And at the top, Harry saw what he had been searching for.

There sat a small cup made of gold, engraved with a badger. Harry recognised it instantly as the one he had seen in the Pensieve last year. The cup of Helga Hufflepuff.

He cautiously approached, but couldn't sense any magic in the area, and no spells or traps tied directly to the cup. It seemed safe, but he still needed to be alert. The first thing he decided to do was check to make sure this actually was a Horcrux.

When he was close enough, he pointed his wand at the cup and muttered, "_Specialis Revelio_." As soon as the spell hit, Harry got his conformation.

The cup was now glowing completely black, the darkest form of the colour Harry had ever seen. He could just make out a bit of a green aura around it, almost struggling to keep from being consumed by the darkness. Harry could think of only one thing that could cause the magical proprieties of something to have such horrible darkness: a fragment of Voldemort's soul.

Not sensing any immediate danger, he waved off the spell and reached for the cup. Thankfully, he wasn't completely relaxed. He felt his hand close around the cold metal of the cup and lifted it off the pedestal. Then, without warning, he saw a flash of silver from the opposite wall flying straight at him. The next instant, he felt a searing pain in his left shoulder, almost making him drop the cup.

He looked down to see a thin, silver spike piercing his arm. Luckily, he hadn't been facing the cup directly, or he would have been hit in the center of his chest. Ignoring the pain and the blood running freely down his arm, he quickly turned to leave, which proved to be lucky again.

Another trap had set off, sending a sharp blade swinging down from the ceiling. Harry tried desperately to avoid it, but it managed to graze along his forearm as he turned. It had ripped clean through his jumper but hadn't cut very deep into his skin. More blood was quickly staining the arm of his jumper, but he felt it would be best to get clear of anymore traps.

"Time to go, Dobby," he shouted as he started sprinting down the hallway. As he was about halfway to the ladder, he was forced to dodge spells that were randomly firing from the mouths of the skulls. One managed to get the hood of his jumper, but Harry avoided the rest. The soft footsteps behind at his back told him that Dobby was all right as well.

They quickly climbed the ladder back into the drawing room. Harry heard the trapdoor slam shut and reseal itself after the clambered out, but he didn't look back. He ran out of the room and into the entrance, the door to the drawing room sealing itself as well. Not pausing, he flew out of the front door and onto the porch.

Harry started down the path, but was immediately obstructed. The overgrown hedges and vines were seemingly brought to life, creeping towards Harry and reaching out for him. It would have taken far too many spells to blast his way through, so he backed away before he could get surrounded.

"Let's go around the back," he panted, sensing Dobby was still with him. Harry had been fighting through the pain, but it was starting to catch up with him. By now, his left sleeve was soaked through and completely crimson; the other sleeve was getting there. He continued to ignore it and ran around the house and toward the graveyard.

The fog hadn't cleared at all and Harry had to hold an arm in front of him so he didn't run into anything. Eventually, he reached the graveyard and came to a stop. The adrenaline from back in the house was slowly fading away, no longer helping to suppress his pain. Harry slumped against a nearby headstone to first catch his breath.

The next moment, Dobby reappeared and squeaked, "Is Harry Potter all right? Harry Potter looks badly hurt!"

Despite the situation, Harry smirked slightly. "I'll be fine in a second, Dobby. Here," he said, handing him the cup. "Be very careful with this."

Dobby accepted the cup, allowing Harry a free hand. Taking a deep breath, he wrapped his fingers around the spike protruding from his shoulder and braced himself. Once he gathered enough courage, he slowly pulled it free. The pain was excruciating and he groaned several times, but managed to keep from screaming.

The blood flow, which had nearly stopped completely, started right back up again. Some even splattered out as the metal tip pulled free from his flesh. Gasping in pain, Harry tossed the spike aside and grabbed his wand. He was starting to feel light-headed from the blood loss, so he worked as fast as he could.

He pressed his wand against the open wound and muttered, "_Medicor_," through his grimace. The injury was far too deep for a simpler Healing Spell. Trying his best to focus, Harry held his wand steady as he felt the pain slowly subsiding. After half a minute, he moved his wand away and felt the area with his fingers. It had healed almost completely, and there was no trace of the wound, save for a round scar and the slick, warm blood covering his arm.

Satisfied, Harry turned his attention to his other arm. This one was much easier to fix. He rolled up his sleeve and whispered, "_Episkey_," while tracing the wound with the tip of his wand. The gash sealed up easily enough, though it would likely also leave behind a scar, as Harry couldn't attend to it quickly enough.

Now that he was out of immediate danger, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a vial of Blood-Replenishing Potion. He had thought himself mad and paranoid for first putting it in his pocket, but those thoughts went right out the window. Uncorking it, he drained the entire bottle and leaned back to let the potion take effect.

There was still a dull pain in both his arms and he was panting and slightly dizzy, but he was beginning to feel much better.

"So Dobby," Harry said between deep breaths, "you didn't get hurt, did you?"

"No sir, Dobby is unharmed," he said, then asked nervously, "Are you all right now, Harry Potter, sir?"

"I'm getting there," Harry wheezed. "Don't worry about me."

The potion didn't take long to work, and within a few minutes, Harry was back on his feet. He gingerly stretched out his arms, and was satisfied when he only felt a mild discomfort.

"Ok Dobby, I guess it's… guess it's time to…" Harry started, but trailed off when something caught his eye.

Through the fog, he could just make out an odd shape several feet away. It wasn't the shape you would normally find in a graveyard. Harry looked around to make sure he was safe, and then walked over to whatever it was.

It wasn't until he was right on top of it that he could see it clearly. It was a giant cauldron, much bigger than Harry, sitting in the middle of a group of graves. He got a cold feeling in the pit of his stomach when he remembered the last time he had seen this cauldron. When he had seen Voldemort rising out of it, back in his original body.

Time had worn the large cauldron into disuse in the two years it stood here. Most of the surface was covered in vines, and the places that weren't were heavily rusted. Harry heard Dobby scurrying up behind him to make sure he was alright.

But just then he heard a very unwelcome sound. Right behind him, there was a loud _pop_ of someone disapparating.

His Quidditch reflexes taking over, Harry immediately dived to one side, feeling a curse whiz over his head in the process. In one fluid motion, he hit the ground, rolled to one side, and popped back with his wand leveled at the newcomer.

And he found himself staring into the grinning face of Bellatrix Lestrange.

Some of her former beauty had returned after being away from Azkaban for so long, but she still had the same heavy-lidded eyes and hard face. Her shining black hair was tied up in a neat bun, so as not to get in the way.

Harry blood ran cold as he felt a weight slowly pressing down on him. She had apparently erected an Anti-Apparition ward already.

"Ah, it's ickle baby Potter," she practically squealed with delight. "The Dark Lord told me you might start poking your nose around where you don't belong."

"Take the cup and go home Dobby. I'll be all right," he whispered, and heard the elf disappear. Though Harry wasn't feeling one hundred percent, he knew he would have to fight her. And he wanted to. Not in the mood to listen to her taunts, he fired a Stunner at her.

She dodged it easily and said, "So, not in the mood to talk, are we? No matter." Her mouth turned up in an evil grin. "If you want to play, then we'll play. _Crucio!_"

"_Protego_," Harry counterd quickly, conjuring a shield in front of him and putting as much strength he could into it. Of all the Death Eaters Harry would have liked to run into, Bellatrix was definitely at the bottom of the list. He just needed to remain focused and stay on his toes.

"_Abrumpo_," she hissed, sending a beam of orange light straight at him.

Harry dodged to his right, but couldn't avoid the spell entirely. He felt something slam into his hand with enough force to knock him off his feet. As he was off balance, he spun around in the air and landed hard on his side. He was almost completely winded, but that was nothing compared to the pain in his hand.

He looked down to see his hand mangled and deformed, and his fingers sticking out at odd angles. He tried moving his fingers, but they wouldn't respond. It seemed the spell had dislocated all the bones in his hand.

"Did you actually think you were a match for me?" he heard Bellatrix' chilling voice call out as he stood up. "You're brash and headstrong, just like that idiot cousin of mine. Except you have no skill to back it up."

Harry felt the anger swell up inside him as Bellatrix talked about Sirius. He wanted to hurt her, to beat her with his bare hands until he couldn't lift his arms anymore. She had slowly made her way over to him, her wand pointed straight at him.

She fired an unknown spell at his head as she advanced. Harry jerked his head to the side, but felt something warm graze the bottom of his ear. He reached up and felt fresh blood flowing from his ear and the side of his neck. The spell had just missed him, managing to merely sever part of his earlobe.

"He was no match for me, and neither are you," she jeered. "I just hope the Dark Lord will forgive me for killing you instead of leaving that pleasure to him. _Avada_-"

Before she could finish, Harry charged right at her; she was so shocked that she halted her curse. The next moment, Harry connected his good shoulder to her stomach with as much force as he could muster. She let out a grunt and was knocked back several steps, but managed to stay on her feet.

It wasn't much of an advantage, but Harry made the most of the opportunity. Before she could regain her balance, Harry pointed his wand at Bellatrix' shin and shouted, "_Diffractum!_"

The spell connected with a sickening crunch and Bellatrix screamed out in pain. Her leg would no longer support her weight and she fell to the ground. While she was distracted by the pain, Harry thought, "_Expelliarmus_," and his opponent's wand soared out of her hand and into Harry's.

"You son of a bitch!" she spat, trying to fight through the agony. She lifted her robes up to reveal her injured leg and moaned in pain again. Her shin was lumpy and misshapen, and Harry could see shards of bone poking through the skin in dozens of places. From these wounds, blood was pouring out; it was so dark that it looked black in the dim graveyard.

Harry raised his wand at Bellatrix, who slowly scooted back along the ground. Harry stepped forward and she continued to move away until she backed into a tombstone. Gasping for air and cornered, she went back to taunting him.

"So what now, wee baby Potter? Are you going to kill me?" she chuckled.

"I would definitely like to," growled Harry, not taking his wand off her.

She laughed again, and said, "You don't have what it takes. You're all the same, Dumbledore's lot. Always held back by your conscience. Your weak godfather couldn't kill me, and neither will you."

Harry must have had some visible reaction to the second mention of Sirius, and Bellatrix pressed on. "You miss him don't you?" she asked with a wide grin. "You hate me for killing him, and for taking so much pleasure in it. And you hate yourself because there's nothing you can do about it. How do you expect to defeat the Dark Lord if you can't even stop me?"

Harry's ears were buzzing and he could feel the anger bubbling just beneath the surface, about to spill over like a pot left on the stove for too long. Each of her taunts about Sirius filled him with more and more rage until he felt he would burst. He had to do something to relieve the pressure.

Harry stared into the face of the woman before him, the woman that killed Sirius and as well as killed Neville's parents. He concentrated all his hate and rage at her, thinking about all the lives she had destroyed and ruined. And then…

"_Avada Kedavra!_"

.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.

A/N: hope you liked it. From now on, I'm gonna try to update every two weeks, or less. Unless something comes up. I'm setting off to start the next chapter right away, so I hope it won't take long.


	7. Unfogging the Past

**Chapter 7**

**Unfogging the Past**

It was as if someone had frozen time itself.

Silence hung heavily in the eerie graveyard. It was a silence so absolute, it was almost deafening. Any other sound that would have normally been heard was muted by the dense fog that still hugged the ground.

Not even the wind was present, giving the whole scene an unnatural calmness. Each individual blade of grass could be seen standing straight up, perfectly stationary. On top of that, the two figures present were inert as well.

Again, it was like time had stopped completely.

Harry stood there, his eyes and wand still trained on the motionless body pinned to the tombstone in front of him. His face was completely expressionless, but his fingers were gripping his wand so tightly, they were turning white.

Bellatrix, on the other hand, wore an expression of total shock. Her eyes were frozen wide open in fright and her mouth was hanging slightly open, as if she had been cut off mid-sentence. Blood had ceased flowing from the horrible wound on her leg, but the large puddle on the grass beneath her betrayed the severity of her previous condition. Not that it mattered at the moment.

Several minutes had passed before Harry finally broke the silence, letting out a deep lungful of air before audibly breathing again, slowly and steadily. He stared down at Bellatrix' face frozen in shock. And then his eyes shifted over to the large, smoking hole in the tombstone, inches from her face.

Bellatrix blinked. Once. Twice. Then rapidly, as the situation began to catch up with her. Ever so slowly, her expression unchanging, she tilted her head to the side, and saw how close the Killing Curse had come to hitting her.

"What did… How did you…" she tried to get out, but was at a loss for words.

"If I want to kill you," Harry said pointedly, jabbing his wand at her for emphasis, "I will. Next time, I won't miss."

Finally, Bellatrix snapped out of it, pulling herself back to the present. "So, you're not as much a weakling as you used to be," she sneered, trying to pull herself up, but failing with her injured leg. "The Dark Lord will be interested to know that. Not like it matters anyway. You're still no match for him."

"Maybe not," Harry countered. "But I beat you easily enough. I don't think he'll be too pleased with you about that. Especially since he'll have a while to brood over it while you're in prison."

"Ha! No prison will hold me for long. He'll break me out in an instant," she said, still struggling to stand.

"We'll see," Harry said, a tone of finality in his voice. He pointed his wand back at her and said, "_Incarcerous_."

A dozen thick, black ropes flew from Harry's wand, instantly wrapping tightly around Bellatrix and tying themselves off. She struggled against them for a few seconds, but gave up when she failed to free herself.

"You'll pay for this, Potter," she hissed. "I'll hunt you down… like a _dog_."

Harry caught the reference to Sirius, but managed to keep his cool. He flicked his wand, wordlessly sending a Stunner at her to silence her. For the time being. Now he had to figure out where to take her.

He didn't want to go to the Ministry; he wasn't in the mood to put up with them, and he didn't want anyone knowing what he had been doing. _I guess I could drop her off somewhere and let them come find her,_ he thought. But he needed a place where the Muggles wouldn't be a problem.

There was only one place like that.

Harry tossed Bellatrix' wand aside and put his own in his pocket. He then walked over to the motionless form in front of him and grabbed her with his good hand. Holding on tightly, he Disapparated away to the village of Hogsmeade.

.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.

Harry stood in the shadows of a dark alley between what he thought were two shops. He was doing his best not to been seen by anyone. Unfortunately, his hand was throbbing painfully in protest to his discretion.

He glanced around the corner and found the nearby street to be temporarily vacant. Taking advantage of the opportunity, he Stunned Bellatrix again, to be safe, and levitated her body out into the middle of the street, making sure to drop her to the ground hard.

_Well, I hope I don't scare everyone __**too**__ much_, he thought to himself. He had decided that the best way to make sure the Ministry came as soon as possible was to set of the Dark Mark above the village. The downside was that seeing Voldemort's sign in the sky would unnecessarily frighten the villagers.

But, he didn't have time to think of anything else and he wanted to get back to Grimmauld Place as soon as he could. His entire body was aching from his various injuries and he wanted to tend to them right away.

He pointed his wand upwards and shouted, "_Morsmordre!_" A flash of green light flew from his wand and soared toward the clouds. It froze for a moment before erupting, spreading glittering green light outwards quickly forming its shape. In no time, the sparkling lights formed a giant skull looking down on the houses and shops, a long snake slithering out of its mouth.

Harry thought someone might have heard him shout, and people would have definitely seen the flash of light in the sky. Sure enough, mere moments later, a scream pierced the silence, which quickly multiplied into dozens of screams and footsteps thumping away. He watched from his hiding spot at the unmoving form of Bellatrix, but no one approached.

Harry had to wait almost five minutes before anything happened. He was leaning against the wall of one of the buildings, gritting his teeth at the radiating pain coming from his hand, when he heard several cracks of people Apparating.

He edged along the wall to look around the corner, and saw about ten figures approaching. Some were checking all over the place for signs of movement while the rest cautiously advanced on the body lying in the middle of the street.

As they moved closer, Harry could pick up their voices.

"Is she moving?" one of the men called out from farther away.

"Doesn't look like it," said the closest voice.

Harry finally got a clear look at them when they reached Bellatrix. He recognised their robes immediately as those of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

"Merlin's beard!" one of them gasped. "It's the Lestrange woman."

"Right," the man standing next to him chuckled as he looked the other way down the street, wand outstretched. "So now it's Lestrange, is it? You need your head checked."

"Oh, don't bring that up. I know that was the Queen I saw last week," said the first voice, getting defensive.

"Don't start this again… you _didn't_ see the Queen," the second man said, not trying to hide the humor in his voice.

"Why not?" his friend demanded. "Why can't I see someone famous?"

"I didn't say that. But I don't think it was the Queen you saw in a fish and chip shop in Glasgow." He was struggling to burst out laughing.

"Yeah, but… well… Ok, fine, so maybe it wasn't her," the first man conceded. "But I know this is Lestrange."

The second man ceased covering the other side of the street and looked over at his friend. His eyes widened immediately, growing to twice their normal size.

"Bloody hell, it is," he exclaimed. He rushed over to her side.

"Oi, Peter! Get over here," the first one called out.

Harry heard heavy footsteps approaching rapidly, and then a third figure appeared by Bellatrix.

"Look who it is," the second man said.

"Bellatrix Lestrange? How the hell did she get here?" asked the one called Peter.

"And if she's tied up, who set off the Dark Mark?" the second man wondered.

"No idea," said Peter.

"Maybe someone captured her and sent up the Mark to get our attention," the first man suggested.

The one called Peter scoffed. "Come on, sir. Some nobody bringing down Lestrange?"

"There are more wizards and witches than those at the Ministry, son," the first man countered. He was obviously their superior.

"Ok, that's a possibility. But who was it? And where are they?" the second man asked.

"Well they obviously didn't stick around," said Peter.

"No matter. Whoever did it isn't important at the moment," said the leader. "Peter, go back to the Ministry and inform Robards of the situation."

He nodded and Disapparated instantly.

The leader stood up as another man approached. "Find anything, McCarthy?" he asked.

McCarthy shook his head. "No bodies anywhere. Nothing except the Mark and this," he said, jabbing a thumb at the body on the ground.

"All right. We're heading back."

"Yes sir," said McCarthy. He turned back to gather the rest of their squad.

"Douglas! Get rid of that," the leader called out to another man, pointing to the Dark Mark hanging over them.

Harry had heard enough. His hand was killing him, and he was confident everything would be taken care of. He Disapparated off with a _pop_, louder than usual, as his concentration was elsewhere.

"What was that?" the first man asked, looking at the alley where Harry was standing moments ago.

"What was what?"

The first man continued staring at the alley, but decided he didn't hear anything. "Never mind. Pick her up and let's get out of here."

.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.

Much later that night, Harry was walking down the streets of London. He hadn't asked Dobby to tag along this time. He needed to be alone.

The events from earlier had left him emotionally drained and quite depressed. He couldn't stop replaying what had happened with Bellatrix in his mind. He had tried studying back at Number 12, but his mind would always wander back to the graveyard. He had then tried reading the Quidditch book he had gotten for his birthday, but that reminded him of Hermione, which hurt just as much.

In the end, he decided he needed to get away from all of that for a while. He needed to get away from the magical world.

And so, he was walking down some street in downtown London, not going anywhere in particular. Actually, he had no idea where he was. Just that he was far away from the Ministry.

The wind was blowing lightly, ruffling his hair and tugging at his shirt. The temperature had dropped more than he expected, making him slightly uncomfortable as he had on short sleeves. He decided he should probably make a trip to buy some new clothes sometime soon. Especially since his best jumper was in pretty bad shape.

Harry turned down another street, this one nearly empty as well. He was glad he had waited till so late to go out. He wasn't in much of a mood to be around a bunch of people.

The next building Harry passed was an office of some sort, and he caught a glimpse of his reflection in the window. He came to a stop and looked more closely, letting out an audible sigh.

He didn't look nearly as bad as he did a few hours ago, but he certainly wasn't in the best of shape. Most of his right earlobe was gone (though that wasn't much of a loss), and there was a small scar on the side of his neck, as well as a long scar running down his forearm. All things considered, he supposed he was lucky to come out as 'unscathed' as he had.

_If I'm not careful, I'll end up looking like Moody before I graduate,_ he thought, with a small hint of humor.

With another sigh, he continued shuffling down the sidewalk, watching the buildings and shops with mild interest and thinking back to when he had returned to Grimmauld Place earlier that day.

Dobby had been frantic when he got back, bouncing up and down and nearly in tears at the sight of Harry. He was also still holding Hufflepuff's cup, but Harry had him take it up to his own room. Harry then made his way to the Black's potion lab.

Most of his injuries were easy enough to fix. He had done a well enough job back in the graveyard, and only need to take a few potions to repair the rest of the damaged tissue. There was nothing to be done for his ear. The wound had ceased bleeding and there was no damage to repair. The hard part was his hand. And even though he had all the necessary potions and medical books to walk him through, that didn't make it any less difficult. Or painful.

It seemed he wasn't wrong in the graveyard when he _felt_ like every single one of the bones in his hand was dislocated. He had found a spell that worked similar to a Muggle x-ray, and found the damage was as bad as he thought. Thankfully, his wrist was unharmed.

He had taken some potions to help numb the area, but he still had to physically reset each of the bones in his palm and fingers. It was a very, very painful process, and a difficult one as Harry had no experience in medicine. In fact, he couldn't remember a single time when the Dursleys had taken him to the doctor.

Once he had realigned all the bones, he had to take another pain-killing potion, a potion to reduce the swelling, and a small dose of Skele-gro to repair the ligaments. He had dreaded taking that foul liquid, but the amount was so small, it was tolerable.

After that, his hand felt nearly good as new. It still throbbed painfully every once in a while, but that would subside eventually.

Harry was pulled back from his reminiscing at the sharp pains in his hand he was currently having. He gently flexed it until the pain eased away. Again he thought of how much worse things could have been. In fact, ignoring Bellatrix' appearance, the whole thing seemed rather easy. Harry had expected to run into more obstacles than he did. He eventually decided that it was the Parsletongue that made it seem so simple. When Voldemort hid the cup there, he wasn't expecting another Parslemouth to come looking for it.

As much of a relief as that realisation was, he found his thoughts wandering back to the morning's events, the exact thing he was trying to avoid. So, in a desperate attempt to keep his mind from wandering back there, he did something that, had she been talking to him, would surely have brought Hermione's wrath upon him in no time. He walked into the first pub he came to.

Never having visited such an establishment, he was unsure about what he would find, and rather put off by the foul aroma of cigarette smoke that smacked him in the face as soon as he opened the door. Inside, it looked like a rather seedy place, but Harry didn't care. He wasn't out for an enjoyable evening. And by the looks of it, this place wasn't likely to ask for proof of age. As the legal age in the Muggle world was eighteen, Harry was skeptical at first, but decided if he had to, he would just order a meal and not eat it.

He quickly made his way to the very back, finding the table farthest away from everyone else. As he passed the bar, he saw several men yelling at the television and spilling their drinks all over everything. They were watching a football match, and it was clear that their club was losing. Harry recognised the two teams as Leeds United and Arsenal.

Since he couldn't play Quidditch during the summer, for obvious reasons, he had taken to watching football when the Dursleys weren't home, and following the teams in the paper when he could. It proved to be a great way to keep his mind occupied those long days when he had the problems of the magical world swirling around his mind, and unable to do anything about them. Additionally, the other kids around the neighborhood or at school never let him play when he was younger. Harry never cared too much until he found out exactly what he was missing out on. Sure it wasn't as fast-paced or exhilarating as Quidditch, but for a Muggle sport, it had its own unique qualities that made it exciting to watch.

After making it past the bar almost completely dry, he sat down at his table in the shadowy corner and waited for the young woman walking over to him. She was quite attractive and very shapely. When she got closer, Harry saw that she had deep, brown. His heart panged at this for some reason, and he quickly shifted his mind elsewhere and smiled at the waitress as she came to a stop in front of his table.

She smiled back and asked, "What can I get for you?"

Harry had no idea what to order, but, thinking quick on his feet, as he didn't want to seem out of place, he let out a fake sigh and said, "A pint of anything, as long as its strong."

"One of those days, huh?" she asked with a sympathetic look.

Harry smirked wryly and said, "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"I know that look… I'll bring you back something nice," she told him, in a very friendly tone.

Harry didn't have to wait long before the waitress came back with a large mug of something; either ale or lager, but Harry didn't know which. He thanked her and waited for her to walk out of sight before drinking as quickly as he could. It tasted much different than he had expected, but it wasn't bad. And after the first one, it tasted better and better.

It didn't take long for the effects to set in or for him to order another, and another. He grew dizzier with each minute and he felt all of his unwanted thoughts slowly ebbing away. Thoughts of Bellatrix, her taunting him about Sirius, losing Sirius through the veil, him using the Killing Curse, the fact that he knew it would have worked properly had he been aiming at Bellatrix. They all swirled away into nothingness, like a drain full of water slowly emptying.

By closing time, Harry's table was full of empty mugs. Or, at least it seemed that way, as he wasn't seeing entirely straight. Ever so carefully, he stood up and placed a wad of Muggle money on the table. He knew it was much more than what he owed, but he was in no condition to count it out at the moment. He then stumbled away, making his way to the door. His head was swimming and each step was like a minute on a playground merry-go-round.

Harry was actually surprised that, despite his head, he seemed to be walking straight enough. That was before he realised that the waitress was holding him up and leading him outside.

She held the door open for him and said, "Take care, love," as he exited.

Harry slowly stumbled down the street, wondering why the buildings where dancing back and forth in front of him. He only walked about a block before he had to stop. He felt a very odd sensation in the pit of his stomach and a different kind of dizziness. Harry realised what it meant just soon enough, racing over to a nearby alley. He had just stepped off the street when he dropped to his hands and knees and vomited.

For nearly five minutes, he knelt there, emptying the contents of his stomach with unimaginable force. His insides were on fire, as well as his throat, and he vowed never to drink that much again. Whether he would remember that vow in the morning, he didn't know.

Once he was finally done, he fell back onto the pavement and gasped for air. He had to close his eyes to stop the hundreds of stars whirling around above him.

"Dobby," he managed to croak out, and he heard a crack right next to him.

"Is Harry Potter alright?" the elf squeaked, sounding very close to full blown hysteria.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Harry said in a calming voice. "I just—just need to go home…"

He felt Dobby's tiny hand close on his wrist, followed by what must have been a rollercoaster, before landing softly on his bed.

"Thanks—thanks Dobby. I don't know what…. I'd….do" Harry tried to say, but he couldn't finish. Whether he drifted off to sleep or passed out, he didn't know. All he could feel was himself quickly losing consciousness.

.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.

It was almost noon when finally Harry woke. He shut his eyes as soon as he opened them, the bright light burning his skull. The pounding inside his head was sure to cause it to split open at any time. He tried to raise himself up, but it felt like his body was made of lead. In short, he was feeling _bad_.

He lied there for several minutes, trying to gather strength, and trying to remember what had happened the previous night. Unfortunately, his mind was so foggy that the only thing he could focus on was the blinding pain in his head.

With great effort, he eventually managed to roll himself over and off the side of the bed. He landed on his hands and knees, his mind swirling faster and what was left in his stomach threatened to come up. He waited for the dizziness to pass before he tried standing.

Finally, after much time had passed and after many failed attempts, he found himself upright, leaning against his nightstand for support. He tried slowly cracking his eyes open, letting them adjust to the sun, which, for some reason, had moved from millions of miles away to right outside his window.

Harry squinted around the room for any signs of what had happened last night, but he found none. His bed was made, meaning he didn't even manage to get under the covers before falling asleep. He was also completely dressed.

Then he noticed his bloody sweatshirt and Hufflepuff's cup near the desk in the corner. And it started coming back to him. After coming home, he had gone for a walk to clear his head. And he went into a pub. And drank… a lot.

_Well, I'm not gonna do that again,_ he thought. _Not if this is how you feel afterwards._

He knew there must be some kind of magic to help him, but he had never heard of a charm that cures a hangover. He picked up his wand and racked his brain, but came up with nothing.

In desperation, he pointed his wand at himself and said, "_Makeus Feelbetterus_." Nothing happened.

"Worth a shot…" he muttered.

The next moment, the door slammed open and Dobby burst in, something clutched in his hand.

"Harry Potter sir! This! You must read this!" he cried, thrusting his item into Harry's hand.

Each of Dobby's syllables was like getting thwacked in the head with a broom handle. "Ahh…not so loud Dobby," Harry groaned, massaging his forehead.

"Dobby is sorry," he apologised, but instantly started bobbing up and down, saying, "but Harry Potter must read this."

"All right, All right," said Harry. He looked down to see he was holding an issue of the _Daily Prophet_.

"Dobby will send up some lunch in a moment."

"Thanks," Harry muttered. The elf vanished and Harry unrolled the newspaper.

There, on the front page, was the face of Bellatrix Lestrange, leering at him from her frame. Harry looked down and read the article:

_**Bellatrix Lestrange Recaptured!**_

_In a bizarre and currently unexplained turn of events, the notorious Death Eater, Bellatrix Lestrange, was apprehended in Hogsmeade yesterday morning._

_A squad from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement responded to a report of the Dark Mark hanging over the wizarding village of Hogsmeade. Upon arrival, they discovered, much to their surprise, Lestrange lying under the Dark Mark, bound and stunned. The one that first captured her is unknown, though there was one witness to the event. Andrew Lawrence (39), a resident of Hogsmeade, claims to have seen who it was._

"_I saw him alright. It was Harry Potter. You know, the Boy-Who-Lived. He looked different thought. Standing there with blood all over his hands and shirt and face. But it was him alright. Tossed the body into the street and sent up the Dark Mark. That's when me wife pulled me back inside and locked the place up."_

_While it has been reported, but not confirmed, that Harry Potter is not currently at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, -- _"Great, now everyone knows,"_—it is highly unlikely that he was the one that captured Lestrange._

_Whoever it was may not reveal himself for sometime. Thought the person only used the Dark Mark to get the attention of the Ministry, the act of casting it under any conditions is a crime, punishable by up to two years in Azkaban prison. However, due to the nature in which the crime was committed, the sentence would likely be reduced substantially._

_As for Lestrange, she will return to Azkaban to carry out the remainder of her life sentence. Her security will undoubtedly be dramatically increased to prevent another escape._

_For Bellatrix Lestrange's complete list of crimes, see page 12_

_For the death of her sister, Narcissa Black Malfoy, see page 16_

"I guess it could be worse," Harry said to himself when he finished reading. He had tried hard to make sure he wasn't seen yesterday. And while he was shocked that someone actually did see him, it didn't look like anyone would believe the story. In their usual fashion, the _Prophet_ had gone out of their way to make it known that the idea of Harry Potter doing anything beneficial to society was completely implausible.

_Though_, he thought, _maybe no one thinks a seventh year student could defeat Voldemort's strongest follower_. That was a much more comforting thought. He wanted to remain as withdrawn as possible. And he definitely didn't want anyone knowing what he was up to.

With a sigh, Harry set the paper down on his desk and looked next to it to the tray of food that had appeared as he was reading. None of it really looked appealing, but he thought he might feel a little better if he ate something. He was halfway through one of the sandwiches when he suddenly heard his name called out.

"Harry Potter!" a harsh female voice sounded.

Harry whipped around to the source of the noise, wand aimed in front of him. The sudden movement made his head throb painfully, but he ignored it. He stood there looking towards his bed, where the words had come from. However, no one was there.

"Hello?" he asked to the empty room.

Surprisingly, he got a response. Or, at least, he thought it was at first. "Harry Potter," the same voice said again. It was coming from his nightstand.

"The mirror," he said to himself, realisation washing over him. He was slightly embarrassed at how he had reacted. _Maybe I __**will**__ turn into Moody_, he thought, which depressed him even more.

Harry walked over to his nightstand as quickly as his body allowed him, not knowing who to expect on the other end. He knew it wasn't Neville he had heard and, while he knew he recognised the voice, his brain wasn't functioning well enough to associate it with someone. He picked up the mirror and, while he struggled to focus on it, Ginny's face swam into view.

"Harry? Is that you? Can you hear me?" she asked frantically.

"Ah," Harry grimaced at the volume of her questions, "not so loud, Ginny. I can hear you fine."

"Harry, what's wrong? Are you ok?" asked Ginny quickly, her voice full of concern.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," Harry brushed her off, still rubbing his head in an attempt to gain some comfort.

"But your eyes are all bloodshot. And your head," she pressed on. "Are you sure you—you haven't been drinking have you?"

"What? No, of course not," Harry lied quickly, but apparently wasn't convincing at all.

"HARRY JAMES POTTER!! How thick are you!? You went out partying and got drunk while the whole wizarding community is looking for you?!"

Harry wasn't expecting such an outburst, and nearly dropped the mirror as the decibels crashed into him. No doubt, she got that skill from her mother. Harry went back to clutching his head as he tried to calm her down.

"Ah, Ginny, _please_ don't yell so loud," he gasped. Her mouth was still open like she intended to go on, but she complied. She still wore a look of anger and it was clear she was straining to keep from erupting again.

"Well," she said in as calm a voice as she could, "don't you realise how stupid that is? If someone found you, you'd be in no state to defend yourself."

"Look, maybe it was a bit careless," Harry admitted, garnering a scoff from Ginny, "but I had a rough day. And I went for a walk to clear my head, and ended up going into a pub. I guess I had a few too many, but Dobby brought me back, so I was fine."

Ginny wasn't convinced. "Harry, I don't think you understand the situation. The Death Eaters and the Ministry are now actively looking for you. McGonagall hasn't told anyone where you are. She, Neville, and I are the only ones that know. You can't afford to be seen and ruin your solitude."

Harry let her words sink in and sighed. "You're right Ginny. It was a mistake. But like I said, I had a _really_ rough day."

"Just use better judgment next time. We can't afford to have anything happen to you," she told him sympathetically. She seemed to have cooled off for now. "It was actually your day that I wanted to talk about."

"What about it?" asked Harry.

"Well, didn't you see the _Daily Prophet_," Ginny pressed on.

"Yeah, I saw it."

"So was it you or not?" she demanded. Harry hesitated, and Ginny added, "Come on Harry, you can trust me."

Harry decided this was true, and gave in. "Yeah, it was me. Does everyone at school believe it?"

"Actually no one does. Most everyone thinks you're a coward who's too afraid of Voldemort and are hiding from him. And the Slytherins say you wouldn't last five seconds against Bellatrix," Ginny informed him.

"You know, I'm starting to think that people will continue to bad mouth me even if I defeat Voldemort," Harry said cynically. "I hope you didn't set them straight."

"Your secret's safe," Ginny told him. "So what happened?"

"Well, I was out searching for… you know. And she happened to show up."

"And you beat her?" Ginny asked in an awed voice.

"Well, I got lucky. And it's not like I came out unharmed." Harry felt a sharp pain in his hand, brought on by that memory.

"As long as you're okay now." Harry nodded. "So did you find one?"

"Sure did," Harry said with a grin. "And it's definitely a real one. I also found out who 'owned' the other one, so I think I'm close to tracking it down."

"Harry, that's great!" she exclaimed. "You're really making progress. I hope you can keep it up. And if you happen to run into any more Death Eaters, send them to Azkaban also."

Harry chuckled at this and said, "Well, it is nice to put them behind bars. But it wouldn't be good if Voldemort notices his followers disappear in the same places as his… things." Harry knew the mirrors were safe, but he could only see Ginny's face and didn't know where she was. Someone could be hidden and listening in. And then something occurred to him. "Ginny, how do you know the Death Eaters are looking for me?"

"Oh, you didn't hear? Well… the thing is... they attacked your aunt and uncle's house. And it's obvious they were trying to find you."

"What…" Harry was stunned. How could he not have heard? "What about—"

"Oh don't worry, your family's fine," Ginny said, reading his thoughts. "McGonagall owled them a Portkey a few days before and sent them somewhere safe. Wouldn't say where though."

"Ok," said Harry. He was actually quite relieved. He had always hated them, but he certainly didn't want them to be killed. Especially not because of himself. And then there was what Aunt Petunia had said the day he left Privet Drive. Harry had always suspected she knew more than she was letting on. And Harry wanted to know as much about his parents as he could find out.

"Listen, Harry," Ginny said, rousing Harry from his thoughts, "I've got to go to class. I think Neville wanted to talk to you also, so he'll probably call you when I give him back the mirror."

"Ok."

"I hope you don't mind me borrowing it," she added. "I told him I knew why you weren't at school and he showed me this. But don't worry, neither of us will tell anyone who doesn't know."

"Thanks Ginny. I know you won't," Harry told her. "Have fun in class. Speaking of which, I don't think I ever asked, how many O.W.L.'s did you get?"

"Eight," she said, beaming proudly. "You better watch yourself, or I'll get even better than you."

"You wish," Harry joked.

"Alright, well I'd better be off. Please be careful out there Harry. And next time something happens, let me or Neville know," she said seriously. "I don't want to find out from the _Prophet_ again… I was really worried."

"Sorry… I'll keep you two informed. Just hold down things on your end."

"Bye Harry," she said, and then disappeared, leaving Harry to look at his own face.

_Wow, my eyes really are bloodshot_, he thought, looking himself over. _I really look like shi—_

"Harry Potter," someone called out again, and Neville's face instantly appeared in front of him. This time, Harry did drop the mirror, but fortunately, it landed on the bed.

He picked it up and said, "Sorry, Neville, but you scared me. I wasn't expecting you for a few minutes."

"Oh, sorry," he apologised, "but I walked up right as Ginny said 'goodbye'."

"No worries," Harry told him. "So what's up?"

"I just wanted to know if what the _Prophet_ said was true. The rumors are flying around here."

"Yeah, it was me. But keep it under your hat. For the time being, it's beneficial that everyone thinks I'm a coward," Harry explained.

"Ok. That's really good news. After what she did to your godfather and my parents, I'm glad you were the one that brought her down," he admitted.

"Me too."

"I hope you weren't too easy on her," Neville said, hoping to get some details.

"Actually, I shattered all the bones in her shin," Harry told him.

"Good. I'm glad she's back where she belongs. Keep up the good work."

"I'll try," said Harry.

"Well, I have Charms in a few minutes. Good luck." And with that, he was gone.

Harry hadn't thought of what Bellatrix did to Neville's parents recently, and was glad that his actions helped out someone other than himself. Though he was a little perturbed by what Neville had said. He got the impression that, given the chance, Neville might _actually _kill her.

He set the mirror down and decided he might feel better after a nap. Even though he had just woken up from a long sleep, he still felt completely worn out. Harry lied down and slowly drifted off to the thoughts of how much this war was changing people.

.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.

Nearly a week and a half had passed since Harry talked to Ginny and Neville. He hadn't heard from either of them since, meaning that everything was going smoothly at the school. At least that's what he hoped it meant.

Harry had been keeping himself quite busy, and hadn't had much of a chance to think about Bellatrix. He spent most of his days training hard, pushing his body and magic to their limits and steadily improving at everything he worked at. And when he wasn't training, he was studying or researching, meaning that, whether it was physically or mentally, he was always exhausted at the end of the day.

Unfortunately, unlike his training, his research wasn't getting many results. He could find hardly any information on Ravenclaw and had no idea what the other item could be. He had watched the memories he got from Dumbledore so many times that he would talk along with the other people every time he was in the Pensieve. However, as fun as that was, he couldn't get anything else useful from them about the Horcruxes of Voldemort.

His trying to locate the actual locket wasn't going well either. At first, he thought it might be stashed somewhere in the house, but all the rooms, including the hidden ones, came up empty. Harry had remembered seeing a similar locket back in the summer before his fifth year, when they were cleaning and trying to make the place habitable, but it was likely that the locket he was thinking of was thrown out.

Then, he got the idea that maybe Kreacher had found it and hid it somewhere. Dobby had searched Kreacher's 'room', as well as any other places the ancient house elf hid, but found nothing. Harry had all but given up on finding it, as it was probably long gone by now. He hadn't forgotten, but it was pushed far from the forefront of his mind.

In fact, Harry's only bit of excitement in recent days, or rather, the closest he came to it, was removing the piece of Voldemort's soul from the cup. He had studied long and hard on the proper way to do such a procedure, remember Dumbledore's hand, but it still wasn't without its dangers. Luckily, Harry had come out in much better shape than Dumbledore had.

He had been working in his training room, so that if anything went wrong, the rest of the house would be unharmed. The first thing he did was recheck the cup's magical signature, making sure he had the correct object. Then, with his senses, he had delved deeper, ignoring the bit of soul and focusing on the other magic tied to the cup.

He had found some sort of booby trap that was meant to go off if anyone tampered with it. Although he took many precautions, he couldn't avoid it completely. He had stood far away from the cup when he triggered it, which was good, because he would have surely been split in two, had he been standing a foot closer. As it was, when he heard the _whooshing_ noise, he instinctively jumped back, which was also lucky. The invisible blade of magical energy, which could have easily cut clean through him, managed only to graze his face.

After that, he had slowly extracted the fragment of soul from the cup, thinking long and hard about each action. He got through the rest of the process unharmed, with the cup completely intact. Harry didn't know where the soul piece went, but he knew that, not being bound to anything, it wouldn't linger in this world for long.

Currently, Harry had just stepped out of the Pensieve after watching his dream of Snape. He had been wanting to for a while and finally got a chance to. There were several things he had missed the first time, but none of it seemed helpful or made sense at the moment.

Sighing in disappointment, he extracted the thought and put it into an empty bottle. However, when he went to set the bottle back down with the others, he noticed another one that hadn't been there before.

Frowning, he quickly counted up all the full ones and found he had one more than he should. Harry couldn't understand where it had come from. And if it was here, hidden, this whole time, why would it appear now?

He picked up the new bottle and examined it more closely. It didn't look any different from the others, though it was considerably more full. _There must be more than one memory in there_, he thought. Turning the bottle over, he noticed something that _was_ different about it. On the bottom, a word was carved into the glass, so neat and precise that it looked like it was engraved with a laser. The word 'Trust'.

"Trust," he whispered to himself. His curiosity piqued, he unstopped the bottle and emptied the contents into the Pensieve before diving in after it.

After falling down the icy whirlpool, he landed softly in a rather dingy looking room. The only furnishings were a ragged bed, a table, and two chairs. Both of which were occupied. Behind him, rain was lashing down and hammering against the window but Harry ignored it, instead focusing on the two figures in front of him: Albus Dumbledore and Sybill Trelawney.

Harry knew at once that he was in Dumbledore's memory from eighteen years ago, when the prophecy was first made. And he couldn't have been happier. It seemed he would finally know the truth of exactly what happened. Harry never had a chance to question Dumbledore on the conflicting stories he got from him and Trelawney. According to Dumbledore, the eavesdropper was caught halfway through hearing the prophecy. But, as Trelawney told it, Snape heard the entire thing. The fact that Trelawney knew of Snape's presence made it obvious who was lying. She couldn't be interrupted from making the prophecy, so Snape must have been found afterwards.

Harry watched as they wrapped up the conversation. Dumbledore stood to leave when it happened. Harry wasn't interested in hearing the prophecy again, but he did notice that Dumbledore did nothing to hide his look of shock. And, as Harry had guessed, no sooner had Trelawney finished did the door burst open, revealing the barman of the Hog's Head Inn, holding firmly onto a struggling Snape.

The next moment, everything went black as the Pensieve skipped to the next memory. When the darkness cleared, Harry was standing in the same room, though the chair across from Dumbledore was now occupied by Snape, bound tightly by thick cords. Dumbledore's face was expressionless, though the manner in which he sat, with his fingers steeped in front of his face, told Harry that the old man was still processing what he had just heard from Trelawney.

After a minute, he sighed and turned his attention back to Snape. He looked much younger than the Snape Harry remembered. In fact, he couldn't have been more than twenty. He looked quite disheveled and his eyes betrayed an extensive lack of sleep.

"Why have you come here tonight, Severus?" he asked.

Snape had long since abandoned trying to free himself and looked rather defeated. "I… I need your help."

"My help?" Dumbledore replied in mild disbelief. "As I heard, you had already entered Lord Voldemort's service the night you graduated from Hogwarts. What could you possibly need from me?"

Snape flinched at the sound of his master's name, but went on grudgingly. "I wish to exit the Dark Lord's service. And as you know, that is something that has not been accomplished successfully in the past."

Dumbledore nodded at the last part, knowing exactly what he meant. "Might I ask why?"

Snape hesitated, but eventually answered. "I did something the other night. Something I wish to forget. Ever since I took the Mark, the Dark Lord has kept me out of battles. He saw an incredible talent at potion making and has had me honing my skills, so as to give him easy access to any potion he might need."

"You always did have an aptitude for it when you were at school," Dumbledore told him, and nodded for him to continue.

"The other night, there was an attack planned, and the Dark Lord needed me to accompany the group. I of course did so without question. But out there, I was… I was forced to kill children," Snape said, looking down, his face mixed with horror and disgust. He went on in little more than a whisper, "Three of them. One was ten and the other two were six. And I murdered them. I joined the Dark Lord to gain power… power to get rid of my enemies. Not this. All he's interested in is ruling the world. That is, ruling the magical world, and killing all the Mudbloods and Muggles."

Dumbledore's face didn't change, but Harry could tell that his mind was racing. "I am well aware of his motives. Unfortunately, many who enter his service are not. And by the time they discover it themselves, they are in too deep and cannot escape."

"Are you saying you can't help me?" Snape asked, looking crestfallen.

Dumbledore didn't answer. Instead, he stared hard into Snape's cold, black eyes. Harry knew at once that he was using his Legilimency skills to search through Snape's thoughts. Dumbledore must have found truth in the other man's story and he finally spoke.

"I'm afraid there's nothing I can do for your request, Severus," he said gravely.

Snape looked shocked. Harry wasn't used to seeing Snape show so many emotions, and he realised this might have been before Snape learned Occlumency. "I-I don't think I understand," the greasy-haired man stammered.

"As you said before, no one leaves Voldemort's service, except through death. It would be possible to hide you away, but it would be permanent. Your life would be as good as over. And it might not even be enough to completely protect you. But perhaps we can help each other out."

Snape had looked more and more dejected as Dumbledore went on, but perked up at this last sentence. "What do you mean?"

"Well," Dumbledore explained, "there may be a way to get you out of harm's way. Though you would still be in the service of Voldemort. And it would be dangerous. Though there are means of reducing the danger…"

"What is it already?" Snape asked impatiently.

Dumbledore smiled and replied, "Have you ever though about a career in teaching?"

"I…I don't really—what?"

"You mentioned your improvement in your potion-making abilities?" Snape nodded. "Then perhaps you would like to teach Potions at Hogwarts? I'm sure we wouldn't have any trouble convincing Horace to retire, given the state of things."

"But how would that help me with the Dark Lord?" asked Snape, still looking confused.

"Well, as I'm sure you know, Voldemort has many informants in the Ministry. But unfortunately, we do not have one among his ranks."

"You want me to be as spy?" Snape hissed, his eyes wide. "Spy on the Dark Lord?"

"I can teach you ways to shield your mind from him, if that's what worries you."

"Fine, but I still don't see how this will help me," Snape stated.

"Allow me to explain. While at the school, you will be off the battlefield, which I believe is something you were hoping to get from me. You can go to Voldemort and tell him you have been offered a position at the school. He will of course want you to accept. While he has many men working for him in the Ministry, he currently has no way of knowing what I am up to. Having one of his own right under my nose will be most appealing to him.

"We would, of course, be selective about the information you give him, but you will be in a position to help our cause. And I believe, in such a position, you will be indispensable to Voldemort. You should be quite protected from him. If it sounds too dangerous, I understand, but it is the best I can offer."

Snape contemplated what Dumbledore said for a while, but eventually nodded. "I think it is my best alternative. How can I protect my mind from him?"

"We will get to that later," Dumbledore said. "First we must discuss what you heard earlier. I'm assuming you did hear it?"

Snape nodded. "Very well. I think it may work to our advantage. Perhaps if you need a way to completely gain his trust, you can use it. Not all of it, of course. If I remember correctly, the first few lines will do fine. It will withdraw him for some time while he tries to make sense of it. Yes, that should work…" Dumbledore tailed off.

"What now?" Snape asked after several moments of silence.

"There is much I must teach you. It may take some time, and Voldemort will no doubt not miss your absence. When you go back to him, you will have to have an alibi. You can tell him we captured you and held you prisoner for however long. In the end, you made up some story of remorse and convinced me you had changed. Which I guess is somewhat true," he added with a chuckle. "Then you can tell him I offered you a position, wherein he will demand you take it and begin spying on me. If the question of how you were captured comes up, as I'm sure it will, you can tell him you were eavesdropping and then tell him what you heard. It won't be easy, but I think we can pull it off."

"Thank you sir, I won't fail you," Snape said seriously.

"I know you won't Severus. Now, let us get back to the castle, there is much to be done. And I daresay Sybill will be wanting her room back."

Dumbledore turned to the door and Snape followed him. Before exiting the room, Harry watched as Snape paused and smirked to himself.

At that moment, everything started whirling around Harry and disappearing into darkness again. He was moving to the next memory. When everything stopped, he was standing at the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Dumbledore and Snape were standing next to him, having a heated discussion.

"You're taking too much for granted, Headmaster. This is madness! Perhaps I don't want to be a part of this anymore," Snape yelled.

"I'm afraid you have no choice, Severus. You have taken the Unbreakable Vow, there is no other way. You agreed, and that is that" Dumbledore told him sternly.

"Yes, but kill you? You can't ask me to do that!" shouted Snape.

"I am not asking you, I'm telling you that you must. If Draco cannot complete his task, then you must. Otherwise you will die."

"There must be another way," Snape hissed angrily.

"There isn't. One of us must die, and it will be me. You're far more important to this war than I am. I am too old to continue helping and your position is invaluable to the Order," Dumbledore stated.

"But you still have wisdom beyond any of us," Snape exclaimed. He was growing more and more irrational with each sentence.

"I am currently imparting all the crucial knowledge I have on someone else. Severus, please listen to reason. If Draco fails in his mission, which I suspect he will, you will have to accomplish it. Or you will die. Needlessly. I, on the other hand, have been on this earth for far too long. This is no longer my war."

"Then who's is it? Potter's?" Snape spat.

"Harry will defeat Voldemort. You must trust in him. It's time to put aside your schoolboy rivalries and remember the prophecy. Harry will do it," Dumbledore said, causing Snape's face to frown in disgust.

"You have no choice in the matter, Severus. The wizarding world has relied on me for far too long. It is time for them to fight for themselves. You will carry out what you must."

Snape stared at him for several minutes before turning and storming off towards the castle. Dumbledore continued to stand there until everything went dark again and Harry felt himself lifting out of the Pensieve. He landed back in his room and stood there in disbelief.

_So that's why he trusted Snape?_ he thought, still trying to comprehend what he had just seen. _Well this changes everything._

.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.

A/N: ok, I had a question come up when writing this, and I'd like to hear your opinions. When you put one of your memories in a Pensieve, is it completely gone from your mind? Or is it like making a copy? Your insights would be appreciated. Anyway, I'm done with exams, so I should have more time to write. To one review:

magiquill9 – One, I think the Shield charm could stop the Cruciatis, if enough power is put behind it. In GoF, it says it'll stop minor curses, but in OotP, it blocks a Stunner (which is definitely not a minor curse). Two, I never said he used his family member's murders with the cup, just that he happened to stash the cup there after he used it (because of the place's significance).


	8. Up, Down, And Diagon Alley

**Chapter 8**

**Up, Down, and Diagon Alley**

Two uneventful weeks had passed since Harry had seen the memories of Snape. Even though he had watched them just the one time, the images were still fresh and clear in his mind, playing over and over again. Though they cleared up a few things, they opened up even more questions. Unfortunately, the only two people that could give him answers were currently inaccessible.

Harry had done all that was within his power to track down Snape, but it was as if he had vanished off the face of the earth. The only time Harry had seen his old professor since last June was in his dream, but there was nothing there to hint at his location. No one, not even the Ministry, had any clues to his whereabouts. Though, Harry doubted the Ministry was doing much at the moment in regards to Snape.

Of course, finding Snape was only half of the problem. Harry had no idea what to do once he located him. He didn't even know how he felt with regards to the spy, or what to make of the scenes he had seen in the Pensieve. Dumbledore had clearly read his thoughts, so Snape's remorse was genuine, but a lot had happened since then. There were too many things Harry still needed to know. He felt a fresh wave of anger at Dumbledore for not telling him something so important when Harry had brought up the subject of Snape's loyalty countless times.

The whole mess was frustrating, but Harry could keep himself distracted with the many other tasks he was working on. In addition to training in his magical abilities, Harry was also studying in the courses he would have been taking this year at Hogwarts. He intended to take his N.E.W.T.'s sometime, and if he happened to get rid of Voldemort before June, he could go through exams with the rest of his classmates. Of course, if Voldemort managed to finish him off, all his time would be wasted. But he could always hope.

Harry was currently seated in one of the armchairs by his fireplace, attempting to study. He was finding it hard to concentrate on his textbook of advanced Transfiguration. All the words seemed to run together every few minutes, and Harry had to shake his head and force himself back on track.

Harry wasn't a bad student by any means, but he had always had more success with practical magic, ever since his first year. The theoretical portion was just as important, but Harry could always pick things up much easier by physically trying it, rather than just reading about it.

And so, Harry sat there, staring at the book but not really seeing anything. He finally gave up struggling and let his mind wander and his daydreams take over.

.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.

_It had been several days since Hermione's parents had been murdered, and Harry's grief hadn't lessened a bit. He could still feel his cheek twinge when he though about Hermione. He was constantly switching back and forth between anger for what he had done to her, and sorrow at what he had done to their friendship._

_And all he had to do was look in the mirror to remember what happened with Ron. His split lip seemed to be taking forever to heal. Of course, Harry could have fixed it in an instant with magic, but he left it to remind him of his mistake and how costly it would be if he didn't learn Occlumency._

_While Harry __**was **__upset that he had ruined his longest friendship, he was angrier with Ron at how he had reacted. He couldn't believe Ron was still jealous of Harry's life, even as being Harry Potter was proving more and more deadly. Harry wondered if Ron would still be envious if Voldemort finally finished the job. _

_The whole situation had reminded Harry of his fourth year, when Ron had let his jealousy take over, ending with him not speaking to Harry for half a term. However, back then he still had Hermione to talk to and get help from. This time, he was completely alone. _

_Since it happened, Harry had done little more than sit around Number 12, sometimes attempting to read but finding himself unable to concentrate. Nothing seemed to take his mind off the other day. Even the fact that he could now practice magic whenever he wanted had seemed to dull._

_With a sigh, Harry got up from his seat in the library, where he was currently trying to pass the time, and ambled back across the hall to his bedroom. On his first step into the room, a soft hooting sounded from his study area. Harry turned to see Hedwig perched on the back of an armchair, a rolled-up note tied to her foot._

_His spirits lifting slightly, he strode over to the snowy owl and removed the letter, hoping it was from who he thought. He unrolled it and read:_

_**Harry**_

_**I would be glad to go with you, though I don't know what you're expecting to find there. If you're sure, I'll be in the Three Broomsticks on Saturday at around noon. We can go from there.**_

_**Remus**_

_**P.S. Don't be too hard on yourself**_

_It was a good thing Harry got the letter when he did, as it was Saturday and had just turned noon. He petted Hedwig and thanked her before rushing over to change clothes. Hooting affectionately, she swooped over to the top of the bed and nestled down to sleep._

_Harry had written to Lupin the previous day about visiting his parents' old house at Godric's Hollow. With all the excitement of his birthday party, Harry had forgotten to ask him about it, and it was fortunate that the letter had arrived in time._

_Harry would have preferred to go alone, but he didn't know where the village was, and wasn't sure if it was safe for him to go anywhere alone yet. And if he did have to go with someone, Lupin was the only one he would want to make the trip with. Of course, he wouldn't have minded Ron or Hermione coming along, but that option wasn't available._

_Harry quickly pulled on his new Dragon hide garments and then got completely dressed. It was the first time he had put them on, and they were rather stiff and uncomfortable. He hoped they would conform and fit better as he wore them more. But then he reminded himself that he wasn't wearing them for comfort._

_After checking to make sure he had everything, he Disapparated, hoping he would catch Lupin in time._

_As soon as he landed in front of the Three Broomsticks, Harry dashed towards the door, only to have it open right in front of him. Unable to stop, he ran headlong into the exiting figure, bringing both of them to the ground in a jumble of limbs. He quickly got up and helped to his feet the very man he was looking for._

"_My word Harry, what's your hurry?" Remus Lupin asked, brushing dirt from his robes. _

_Harry was happy to see he didn't look quite as shabby as normal. Harry must not have noticed it at his party, but the man looked much more fit and healthy and his gray hair was neatly trimmed. Even his robes didn't seem quite so worn and frayed. Harry didn't know if anything had materialised between him and Tonks, but Lupin was definitely taking better care of himself._

"_Sorry Professor, but I just got your letter and I didn't want to miss you," Harry explained, gingerly rubbing the bump on his head where he had landed. _

_Much to Harry's surprise, Lupin smiled wide and started to chuckle. "Honestly Harry, I haven't been your professor for some time now. I think 'Remus' will do fine. Or 'Moony', if you like."_

"_All right then… Remus," Harry said, with some reluctance. It would take some getting used to. Though, he definitely didn't feel comfortable using the nickname his father and his friends gave Lupin. Harry felt that to be something just between the Marauders and didn't want to infringe on that bond._

"_Glad we got that sorted out," Remus said. "Now," he went on, his face becoming serious, "why is it you wanted to visit your parents' house?"_

"_I just figure I should see it sometime," Harry explained. "I'd like to see their graves too. I think it would help to go back to where it all began."_

"I understand," Lupin said, nodding. "I just want to make sure you know, Magic is a very powerful and dangerous tool. It is nearly limitless in its applications. But I'm afraid there is no magic powerful enough to bring back the dead." He spoke the last sentence lamentably. Harry nodded and realised he wasn't only talking about Harry's parents, but his own best friends as well.

"_C'mon Remus, the loved ones we've lost never truly leave us," Harry said brightly. "As long as we remember them, they live on inside us. 'Sides, we'll see them again some day."_

"_You have wisdom well beyond your years," Lupin said sarcastically, but his mood lifted nonetheless. "Shall we go then? Grab on, I'll take us."_

_Harry took hold of Lupin's arm, making sure to have a tight grip, before they disappeared._

_.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o._

_To call Godric's Hollow a village would be quite the overstatement. It was little more than a few houses a mile or so outside a larger village, which Harry didn't recognize. It wasn't quite what he had expected. In all honesty, he hadn't known what to expect. With such a name, Harry knew it wasn't a Muggle town, but then again, he also knew there was only one entirely Magical town in Britain._

_They landed at the end of a dirt road, farther away from the other wizarding dwellings. Before him, Harry got his first ever glimpse of his house. Or, at least, what remained of his house._

_All that was still standing was half of one wall, though it wasn't standing by much. Many of the stones were cracked and crumbling, probably only held together by the magic the house once possessed. The foundation had long since been buried by the rubble, vines, and earth that came with its years of abandonment._

"_It's not much to look at, is it?" Harry thought aloud, not expecting an answer._

"_I can't believe it's been sixteen years," he heard Lupin whisper. Harry looked back to see the other man gazing at the ruins with a slight look of disbelief._

_He snapped out of it when he saw Harry looking at him. "I remember asking James why he never wanted a larger house, with all the money he had. He said it didn't matter where he lived, only who he lived with."_

_Harry smiled at this. "Guess all he needed was me and Mum," he said before turning back._

_He made his way over to the ruins, noticing several scorch marks on the ground and on the stones. With his first step on to the foundation, he felt a chill run up his spine. He looked around quickly, but didn't see anything out of place. He figured it was a lingering effect from the evil that took place here all those years ago._

_Harry walked around, looking intently at every inch of the old house. He made sure to kick over every loose stone, hoping to find something, anything. After several minutes of this, Harry noticed Lupin looking at him quizzically, but Harry didn't reveal his other reason for wanting to see the house._

"_Hey, Prof—er, Remus," Harry managed to catch himself in time, "after my parents were killed, did anyone find anything strange here? Anything out of place?"_

_Lupin frowned at the question. "Well, I know the Ministry was here to clean everything up. I would think they searched the area, but Dumbledore never mentioned anything of the sort. Why?"_

"_Oh, it's nothing," Harry lied._

"_Well, it's possible that some of your parents' possessions could be in their vault. Or somewhere at Gringotts," Lupin said, misreading Harry's intentions._

_Of course, Harry didn't bother correcting him, merely nodding and saying, "Maybe I'll go see them about it."_

_Harry was actually asking because he had a suspicion that Voldemort was intending to use Harry's death to make his final Horcrux. Harry had been going back and forth on the matter for some time._

_On the one hand, Harry knew that Voldemort used important deaths to give his Horcruxes more significance. So the one with the power to vanquish him would certainly fall into that category. However, Voldemort didn't know of the prophecy until around the time Harry was born. It would have made no sense for Voldemort to wait forty years to complete his master plan. Especially since he had no idea someone like Harry was coming. _

_Then again, Harry thought of a perfect reason to wait. There was one person whose murder would be perfectly fitting. The person whom Voldemort wanted to be rid of more than anyone: Dumbledore. And when Voldemort couldn't get him after so many years, he could have switched it to Harry easily. In the end, Harry decided the best thing to do was to search his parents house for the intended vessel._

_Unfortunately, Harry's search was fruitless. And by now, it was quite possible that Voldemort had made his last one before something else happened to him. That is, if he hadn't already._

_Harry sighed deeply at this thought. He never thought he relied on the Headmaster so much, but now that he was gone, it was like Harry had been thrown in the deep end. He had very few ideas on what he was looking for, and no ideas on how to find them. And now after what happened with Ron and Hermione, he was completely alone._

"_Harry?" he heard Remus asked, bringing him out of his trance._

"_Sorry," he said, looking up. "Just thinking."_

_Remus nodded in understanding. He then said, "There's a path behind the house that'll lead to James and Lily's graves. If you want to spend some time with them, I'll wait here for you."_

_Harry gave him a sympathetic look, which Remus picked up on. "It's ok, I've been here many times. I'm sure you'd rather be alone."_

_Harry eventually agreed and walked over to the path at the back of what was once his home. It led off into a wooded area, which Harry was skeptical to enter at first. He made sure his wand was within reach, and was relieved when the trees thinned out after a minute of walking. _

_Before him was a large clearing, with a lake in the center. The water was crystal clear and the sunlight shining down through the tops of the trees made the surface sparkle and dance. The trees were dense enough to block out all the outside noise, including the bustling Muggle village not far off. It was the most tranquil scene Harry had witnessed. _

_And there, over by the water's edge, was a small hill where Harry could see two thin pieces of granite protruding from the ground. Harry walked over to them and sat down. It wasn't anything fancy, each one bearing the name of one of his parents, but Harry was touched nonetheless._

_He sat there next to his parents for the longest time, staring out onto the water. He thought of all the things he wished he could have asked them, and all the advice he could have used from them right now. Feeling the corners of his eyes start to water, he couldn't help but think of the ends of his past two school years, after Sirius and Dumbledore had died. _

_Rather than sadden him further, his insides burned with anticipation and he got a newfound drive for his current task. He didn't want to have to mourn anyone else's death for a long time. _

_He stood up quickly and wiped his eyes with his shirt. Before he left, Harry turned back and whispered, "Bye Mum, bye Dad… it won't be long now." With that, he Apparated back to Lupin._

_Remus looked up quickly when he heard the pop next to him, but his expression went back to somber when he realized it was Harry._

"_Thanks for bringing me here," he told Remus, whose visage lifted slightly._

"_I hope you found what you were looking for."_

"_Actually I did," Harry said. "The dead sure do have a lot of influence."_

_Remus chuckled at this and they both started walking back to the road. While they walked, Remus said, "Listen, Harry, there's one more thing I want to talk to you about."_

_Harry raised an eyebrow at him but continued walking._

"_I heard about what happened with Ron and Hermione. It doesn't matter how I heard," he added at Harry's look. "Don't beat yourself up over this."_

"_Maybe you didn't hear exactly what I did," Harry said dryly._

"_Harry, you can't blame yourself. Hermione's upset right now, and that's the only reason she's mad. She needs someone to blame to help her get through this," Remus said. "I know they're angry now, but you can't let it ruin your friendship. I've seen the three of you together and you're stronger than that. I don't want you to go through the same thing I did." He paused and sighed before continuing, "When there was a traitor within the Order, I suggested to James that it might be Sirius."_

"_I bet he didn't take to kindly to that," Harry said._

"_No, he didn't. He couldn't believe I suggested it. He never said it, but I assume he suspected me, like Sirius did. Fortunately, with Sirius, I was able to make amends, but your dad was killed before I could work things out with him. It's one of my biggest regrets. I don't want that to happen to you. You need your friends with you, Harry… you can't shoulder the whole world by yourself."_

_Harry raised another eyebrow. He knew Remus didn't know of the prophecy, but was still bothered by that last statement. Remus must have picked up on this._

"_I think we all know it's going to be you and him in the end. It always has been. But you still can't rely on just yourself," he explained._

"_I understand… it's just, I'm worried what happened. About Ron. I though he was past he jealousy, but he's not."_

"_What do you mean?" Remus asked._

"_Well, I was remembering what I saw in Snape's Pensieve. You, Sirius, and my dad, you were all brilliant and popular and, dare I say, handsome. And Pettigrew seemed to envy that. I just don't want the same thing to happen to Ron," explained Harry._

"_Look Harry, that's something he's going to have to get through on his own. But if he truly is your friend, he can see past all that. I believe if you think back to all your memories, you'll find he's a friend of Harry's, not of the Boy-Who-Lived."_

_Harry thought about this for a second. "I reckon you're right," Harry grinned._

"_I suppose we can go our separate ways from here," Remus said._

"_Thanks again… Remus," Harry said, still finding it awkward._

"_Good luck, Harry. I daresay I'll see you again soon," said Remus, extending his hand out towards Harry's._

_Harry shook it and said his goodbyes to the other man before turning and Apparating back to Grimmauld Place._

.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.

Harry finally snapped out of his reverie, wondering how much time had passed. A glance at the clock showed that he had wasted a good half-hour of time he should have been using to study. He mentally kicked himself, knowing he couldn't afford to be so wasteful.

Harry adjusted Gaunt's ring he wore on his middle finger. He had only recently started wearing it, and not finding the heavy stone very comfortable. Why Dumbledore had worn it had been on Harry's list of things he wished he could have asked the former Headmaster. A list that was far too long.

As for Harry, he occasionally wore it for the same reason he still carried around the fake locket and Chocolate Frog card. It was yet another reminder of his task ahead of him. _As if I could just forget_, he thought ruefully.

Closing his Transfiguration book, Harry stood up and stretched out his legs. Since his studying wasn't working out, he decided he could run a few errands before it got too late. He walked over to the wardrobe to change.

However, he came upon a problem. He needed to conceal himself, but as he would be interacting with other people, he couldn't wear his Invisibility Cloak. After a few minutes of searching, he managed to find a suitable replacement. He threw on an old, black cloak that must have belonged to Sirius. When he pulled the hood on, it cast a shadow on his face, making him impossible to identify.

Satisfied with his outfit, he grabbed the rest of his things and Apparated to Gringotts.

After walking through the front door, Harry was relieved to see that it was relatively empty. He hadn't been to the bank enough times to know what the crowds were normally like, but he figured he had lucked out nonetheless.

He briskly made his way to the nearest available goblin. "I'd like to make a withdrawal," he stated, setting his vault key on the counter.

The goblin eyed him suspiciously before picking up the key and examining it. "Very well," he said after several seconds, "I will fetch someone to take you to your vault, Mr. P—"

"Yes, thank you very much," Harry cut him off before his name could be said aloud.

The goblin grinned wickedly, bearing his sharp, pointed teeth. "My apologies. If you're ready," he said, gesturing toward the one of the doors along the back wall where another goblin had just arrived and was waiting for him.

Harry bowed slightly before walking over to the door. Through it, he and the new goblin climbed into the cart that would take them far down below. Harry closed his eyes for the whole trip, remembering the last time he felt the same sensation in his stomach, and what happened afterwards, when he had left the contents of his stomach in an alley in Highbury. Harry was thankful after a few minutes when the cart slowed to a halt in front of the large door of his vault.

After Harry stepped out, he handed the goblin his key, who opened the vault up and stepped back. Once the door swung open, Harry gazed upon the heaps of money his parents had left him. Only something didn't seem right.

"Hold on," he said. "Something's wrong." He saw the goblins hand dart down to a tiny dagger in his belt, and Harry quickly said, "No, no, nothing like that."

He scanned the entire vault, trying to figure it out. "There's more in here than there should be," he concluded. Harry knew that his parents had left him a large fortune, but what he now saw was far more than he remembered ever having. And what he remembered should have been much less with all the money he had used for school over the years.

The goblin helping him was grinning and twirling his pointed beard around his finger. "What it is?" Harry asked.

Without a change of expression, he said, "You're the first person I've ever heard complain about having too _much_ money."

Harry smirked at this, though it was unseen to the goblin. "Is there an explanation? Who else would have access to my vault?"

"While only someone with your key may open this vault, anyone can deposit funds into it. Allow me to check."

The goblin snapped his thin fingers and a clipboard appeared in front of him. He grabbed it and quickly scanned it. After a minute, he finally spoke. "Your account has had regular deposits from two companies, Weaslys' Wizard Wheezes and Zonko's Joke Shop. The former for only a year now, and the latter, for the past—" he lifted up a page to see the next one, "—twenty years."

_I'll have to go see Fred and George about this,_ Harry thought. "Ok. I understand the first one, but why would Zonko's be giving me money?" he asked.

The goblin checked more of the pages on his clipboard. "Hmmm… it's seems a James Potter sold them the rights to sell several products. I have a list here," he said, hand a piece of parchment to Harry.

Harry was in disbelief. No one had ever told him what his parents had done for a living, but he had never expected this. He looked at the list in awe. He recognized just about every item, and about half of them he had actually purchased before. "My dad invented these?" he finally asked, though still quite stunned.

"That's correct. He created them and then allowed the shop to sell them, while he received a share of the profits. A small portion from every item of his sold goes directly into this vault," the goblin explained.

"Very well," Harry decided he should get moving. "Thank you for checking that."

"My pleasure," the goblin said, grinning again.

Harry quickly grabbed as much as he needed from the vault and headed back to the cart. After a quick ride back to the top, Harry hopped out and made his way back to Diagon Alley. Next, he decided to pay the twins a visit. He had a feeling what they were up and he wanted to put a stop to it.

Their shop wasn't far from the bank and Harry was happy to see it was still bustling with customers. Making sure he had his hood in place, he weaved through they people leaving at the front of the store and made his way to the counter. He was tempted by the products on the shelves near him and the colorful displays, but he pushed that from his mind for the time being.

Harry quickly spotted the wild, red hair of one of the twins behind the counter. He was talking to the young witch they had hired who Harry had seen on his last visit, though he didn't remember her name. They were both wearing their horrible magenta robes. He ought to talk to them about that.

A few minutes later, the other Weasley twin walked up, and Harry made his move. He approached the counter after the customer there finished paying. As he walked up, the twins looked wary at his appearance, which was expected given current events. Harry came to a stop and waited for a few seconds, moving his head to face them one at a time.

"Can we help you?" one of them asked, sounding braver than he looked.

"We need to talk," Harry said bluntly.

"And who are you?" the other twin asked.

"Let's just say… I solemnly swear that I'm up to no good," he said, dropping his voice to barely a whisper with the last part.

One of the twins' eyes widened while the other one simply smirked and said, "Verity, can you take care of things for a little bit while we meet with this gentleman?"

The young witch was still eyeing Harry apprehensively, but said, "Of course, Mr. Weasley."

The twins then turned back toward their office, motioning Harry to follow. Once the three of them were inside and the door was closed, one of them gasped out, "Blimey, Harry, you almost gave me a heart attack!"

"Fred's right, mate. I was about to hex you pretty hard," said what must have been George.

Harry pulled his hood back and started laughing, unable to hold it back any longer. "Still… the look on your face… you should have seen it," he managed to get out.

Eventually, all three of them were chuckling about it and both the twins shook Harry's hand and patted him on the back. After they said their greetings, George locked the door and used several privacy charms on the office. Harry raised a questioning eyebrow at him. "You never know, mate," was his explanation, which Harry understood perfectly.

"So," Fred started off, once they were all seated in the comfortable chairs surrounding their desk, "what brings you to such a fine establishment as this?"

"Well, I was just at Gringotts, and there were a few rather fishy deposits into my vault," Harry said.

"Ah, that," was Fred's reply.

"See Harry, the thing about that is—" George started, but Harry interrupted him.

"Look, I thought we already had a deal. Remember? I can have anything I need from the store, free of charge?" Harry told them. He never intended to make much use of that offer, but he felt he needed to bring it up to make his point.

"Of course, and that still stands. But c'mon Harry, you saw it out there. We've got more gold than we know what to do with," Fred said.

"Seriously, business is booming. In fact, we've thought about opening another store," George added.

"Hogsmeade would be the obvious choice, though I'm not sure we can compete with Zonko's."

"Rubbish," Harry told them. "You two are legends at Hogwarts. All the students would come to your shop."

"The lad's got a point, Fred," said George.

"That's right, we are legends."

"I can see it now. All the 'ickle first years, sitting around the fire, begging the older students to tell stories about Fred and George," George said, looking up and drifting off.

"So many little pranksters would be born."

Harry cleared his throat. "If you lot are finished?"

"Sorry 'bout that, but you know how it is."

"Sometimes we get caught up in our own grandeur."

"About the money?" Harry tried to get them back on track.

"Ah, yes. Well, Harry, there's no denying this place wouldn't be here without you," Fred said, extending his arms and gesturing to the entire store.

"And from a purely business-minded viewpoint, you're entitled to a share of our profits at the _very_ least."

"Like it or not, Harry, you're our partner."

"Silent partner, that is."

"Unless you don't want to be," Fred added quickly.

"Ooooo, can you imagine? Harry Potter, our spokesman? We could have your face everywhere! Flyers, posters, newspapers, magazines…" George added excitedly

They both hugged each other and exclaimed, "We'd be rich!"

;P"Don't even think about it," Harry growled threateningly.

"Erm—right. Never mind, then," Fred muttered and they both straightened up. Harry couldn't help but grin at their antics.

"So," George picked up, "I'm afraid we can't _not_ give you a portion of our profits."

Harry thought for a second before responding. "I'll accept it on one condition. You take half of whatever you're giving me each month and put it in your parents vault."

Both the twins frowned at this. "What are you on about, Harry?" George asked.

"Look, your family's always been there for me, given me a place to stay. You've always treated me like one of your own," Harry explained. "This way I can pay them back." Fred and George looked at each other uncomfortably, which Harry noticed. "If you don't do it, I will. I don't need the money."

Fred and George put their heads together and began whispering fervently. Harry leaned forward slightly, trying to pick up on their conversation, but unable to understand a word of it. After several minutes, the twins leaned back to their seats, their faces unreadable.

"Well Harry, we accept," Fred told him after another pause. "I assume you know that they don't expect any repayment and certainly won't accept it." Harry nodded. "Then if you still feel you must, we'll do it. And tell them it's from us, of course."

Harry grinned at them and said, "It's something I need to do. Besides, I've actually got enough joke shop income at the moment."

The twins frowned again in confusion, and one of them asked, "What do you mean?"

"Well, when I was in Gringotts, they told me I was also getting deposits from Zonko's… have been for twenty years or so," Harry told them, still excited about finding out what his father had done. "It seems my dad had invented a load of products that they sell."

Harry didn't have to wait long for the twins to react. Grins quickly spread across their faces and George exclaimed, "Blimey, Harry, that's brilliant!"

"I had no idea. Do you know what products?" Fred asked eagerly.

"I didn't know either," Harry said as he reached in his pocket for the list. "I'm surprised no one ever told me. I guess they didn't want me to follow his footsteps. At least, in those regards."

He handed them the parchment, which the quickly poured over, their eyes growing wider with each second. "Completely brilliant!" Fred shouted once he finished.

"Harry, this is amazing! Your dad, a prankster like us. If only we could have met him," George said, but immediately regretted that last statement. "Well, what I, er, meant was—"

"Yeah," Harry cut him off, not wanting him to feel bad, "he and his friends were the best. Though you two might have given them a run for their money," Harry added, remembering that the twins didn't know the true identities of the Marauders.

Fred mock gasped at this and proclaimed, "Never have I had my pranking skills called into question!"

"Lies! All lies! Don't listen, Fred," George cried. Harry merely chuckled at them. "Now see here 'ickle Harry, the only ones who might have been able to best us were the Marauders."

"You're right," Harry smirked. "The Marauders were the only ones better than you." He was cracking up inside as he tried to make it as obvious as possible, while trying to maintain a straight face.

"Now hold on," Fred scowled at him, "you just said your dad was better than us."

"You're right," Harry said, smiling wider. "My dad and his friends were the only ones better than you."

And then it was like someone simply turned on the lights. Both twins' expressions went immediately from confusion to disbelief

"No way."

"It's impossible."

"Simply not possible."

"Do you know what you're saying?"

"Yes, I do," Harry said simply.

"Unbelievable!"

"Harry, this is big!"

"Bigger than big!"

"I'm surprised it took you this long. I mean, you knew who my dad's best friends were. And you should've known all their Animagus forms," Harry told them. "Like my dad was a stag."

"Prongs!"

"And Sirius was that giant dog."

"Padfoot!"

"And you knew Pettigrew was really Scabbers."

"Wormtail," they both hissed.

"And, of course, Lupin is a werewolf."

They both looked completely stunned. "How could you not have told us this, mate?"

"I didn't think it would take you this long to figure it out."

"Amazing…"

The three of them actually spent nearly half an hour discussing the new revelation. Though Fred and George were unable to hide the hate in their voices when talking about Wormtail, they thought the news was fantastic. And even more so was that Harry was actually related to one of their idols. Unfortunately for Harry, he didn't have an excuse when the question of why Harry never seemed interested in the twins activities came up. Harry had to sit through several minutes of senseless banter and fake crying. His neck was getting sore for constantly turning from one to the other.

Eventually, the conversation turned to the present state of things. They knew Harry wasn't at Hogwarts, but were delighted to find out that it _was _him behind the imprisonment of Bellatrix. Harry, on the other hand, was interested to know what the two of them had been up to.

"So, onto current events," George prompted, taking a sip of his butterbeer. Harry had initially declined their offer of some refreshments, having made a promise to himself long ago not to accept any food from the twins. However, after much convincing on their part (and much testing on his part), the three of them were enjoying a drink.

"Have you been doing any more work for the Order?" Harry asked. He remembered Fred and George telling him over the summer that they were asked by the Order to develop certain products to help with their surveillance and subterfuge needs.

"Alas, no," answered George. "Well, nothing important, really. Seems we chose a bad time to join, what with Dumbledore and all."

"McGonagall has asked us to 'keep our eyes open', which we've been doing anyway," Fred said, the frustration evident in his voice. "Just contacted us the other day, in fact. Sent the message along with Mundungus."

Harry's face hardened at this comment. He was still furious that Mundungus had been selling the things he had nicked from Sirius' house. To Harry, it amounted to spitting on Sirius' grave. In a metaphorical sense, of course, as no grave existed. Though, he felt something else at the mention of Mundungus; something was nagging at the back of his mind, but he couldn't put his finger on it.

Harry shook it off and asked, "So what is Dung up to?" in what he hoped was a conversational tone.

"He didn't look too good, did he Fred?" said George, shaking his head.

"Nope, he didn't. Azkaban must've been rough on him. From what I've heard, he's nearly broke as well," Fred added.

"Mmmm," Harry said, taking another sip. He wasn't entirely disappointed at this news.

"So how about you, Harry? What does a bloke like you do if he doesn't have to go to school?" Fred asked, reaching over and nudging Harry with his elbow.

Harry brushed him away and smirked. "I'm afraid that's top secret," he told them. After sitting through the dramatic display of hurt feelings that followed, he added, "Honestly, guys, it's not that I don't trust you. But the fewer that know, the better. If Voldemort gets wind of it, it'll be nearly impossible to get rid of him."

"Right, because everyone's had such an easy time so far," George said sarcastically.

"In fact, just yesterday Forge and I went over to his hideout and kicked him in the arse. You know, for fun," Fred added.

"You two never quit, do you?" Harry asked, shaking his head and trying to suppress a smile.

And then, all of the sudden, it hit him like a Bludger to the head. "Mundungus!" he yelled, jumping to his feet, "That's it!"

Fred and George backed away from him slightly, both wearing looks of concern. "Er, Harry? You alright?" one of them asked.

"Better than alright," Harry grinned. "Look, I gotta run, I just thought of something."

George looked back at the clock and his eyes widened. "Bugger, look at the time! I hope Verity has been fine. We need to get back out there."

"Right you are, dear brother. Time is Galleons," Fred said. "Harry, come back anytime. If you ever need our… 'services', don't be afraid to ask."

"Thanks guys, I'm sure I'll be back soon," Harry said, shaking both of their hands quickly. "Thanks for the hospitality." And with that, he Apparated back to Grimmauld Place.

.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.

After returning home, Harry was practically ecstatic. It seemed he finally got the clue he needed in tracking down the locket.

He couldn't believe he had forgotten about Mundungus stealing all those things from Number 12. Harry knew it was a long shot, but if the locket wasn't anywhere in the house, there was a chance Mundungus had taken it. Harry just needed to figure out who he might have sold Sirius' possessions to.

And Harry believed he had an answer to that also. He went into the Pensieve several times and watched the memory of that day in Hogsmeade when he caught Mundungus. Watching it caused his anger to boil up again, but Harry did his best to ignore it and focus on what he was looking for. Fortunately, he had a place to check.

That was why Harry was currently in Hogsmeade, standing outside the Hog's Head Pub. He carefully adjusted his hood, making sure it shadowed his face completely. He wasn't particularly looking forward to spending time in this particular pub, but it needed to be done. After he fixed his cloak, he warily eyed the sign of the severed head dripping blood onto the cloth. _That's definitely something that doesn't need to be animated,_ Harry thought as he opened the door and walked inside.

Harry was pleased to see that it was nearly empty. Though no one could recognise him, he still wanted as much privacy as possible. Other than the barman, there were only two figures in the pub. They were both ancient-looking wizards sitting together at a table near the entrance, whispering and smoking long, thin pipes. Harry couldn't make out what they were saying, but frankly, he didn't care. As long as they were keeping to themselves, he was happy.

Harry slowly made his way to the bar, the barman eyeing him the whole time. He was wiping a glass from behind the counter, a gruff expression on his aging face. Harry was somewhat relieved to see the towel he was using was relatively clean, compared to the one he had used on Harry's last visit. Harry sat down directly in front of him, and, just to be safe, reached out with his magic and sensed the rest of the building. Along with the three in the bar, Harry could feel someone upstairs, who seemed to be asleep.

Harry opened his eyes to see the barman looking at him, the same sour expression on his face. "Well?" he grunted, not trying to hide his annoyance.

"Firewhisky," Harry told him, holding up two fingers. He just hoped the dirty rag was a joke.

The barman disappeared through a door behind the counter and came back with two glasses and a bottle of amber liquid. He set the glasses down in front of Harry, who was relieved to see they were clean. The other man then uncapped the bottle and filled the glasses with the fiery liquid.

Harry had tried the drink before. He had found a bottle of Ogden's Old Firewhisky in the cupboard of Number 12 a few weeks ago. The first sip he took came with a bit of a shock, as he wasn't expecting the sharp burning after swallowing, and drank several glasses of water before it subsided. Since then, he had tried it a few more times, finding it more tolerable, but it definitely wasn't his drink of choice.

He blew away the smoke rising from the first glass and drank it, thankful the grimace on his face couldn't be seen. As for the second glass

"This one's for you," Harry told the other man.

The barman eyed him curiously, but clearly wasn't going to pass up a free drink. He drank it down. "What else then? People don't buy a barman a drink for no reason."

"Actually," Harry answered, his voice slightly hoarser than before, "I believe you have something I want."

The barman looked at him questioningly, prompting Harry to pull back his hood slightly, revealing his face to the other man. His face was expressionless for a moment, but Harry could see his mouth turn up slightly underneath his beard.

"Ah, yes, Albus told me I should expect a visit from you," the barman told him. "Or, rather, his portrait told me."

"His portrait? At the school, you mean?" Harry asked, not knowing why this man would be talking to Dumbledore. Harry remembered him being at the funeral, but that was the only time he had seen him outside the Hog's Head.

The barman shook his head. "No, he has a portrait here as well," he explained.

Harry was even more clueless. He knew certain Headmasters and Headmistresses had portraits they could visit other than in McGonagall's office. Even Phineas had one at Sirius' house. So, with Dumbledore's influence and what he accomplished, it stood to reason that he also would have several other portraits. But Harry wouldn't have thought one would be here, in this dingy pub.

And then something clicked with Harry. He looked back at the barman with confusion written all over his face, which the man before him seemed to be enjoying. "Wait… Aberforth?" Harry asked in disbelief.

"But of course," he said, smiling again. "I'm surprised Albus never told you. I know he wanted my identity to be kept secret, but I thought he might have trusted you."

"He did. With some things, but not others," Harry said, slightly bitterly, but he shook it off quickly. "There was always something about you that I couldn't put my finger on. I guess I just hadn't put two and two together. I had never heard the barman's name, and I had never seen Aberforth. Well, once in a picture, but that was from a long time ago."

"Yes, it seems I didn't age as gracefully as my brother," Aberforth said with a slight bit of humor.

Harry was fairly shocked at this revelation. It made sense now why he had never heard much about Aberforth. He must be running the pub here so Dumbledore could have someone close to the school to spy for him.

"So… what exactly happened with that goat? No, never mind," Harry said, shaking his head. "There's something more important."

"Right."

Harry turned around to make sure the other two wizards were still immersed in their conversation. "I believe Mundungus sold something to you last year. And it's something I need," Harry told him.

"And what might that be?"

"A locket," said Harry. "One that belonged to Salazar Slytherin."

"Yes, the locket," Aberforth said in understanding. "I must admit, I'm rather fond of it."

"I can see why," Harry told him sympathetically, "but it's very important that I have it. It concerns getting rid of Voldemort."

At the mention of Voldemort's name, Aberforth looked around quickly and then leaned across the bar, lowering his voice to little more than a whisper. "And how might that be?"

Harry lowered his voice as well, answering, "I'm afraid I can't tell you. But trust me, it's vital. I've been searching for that locket for months now. It's the reason your brother died." Harry knew that last remark was a low blow, but it _was _true, and it looked like Aberforth needed some convincing.

He looked off thoughtfully at this, but didn't say anything. Harry decided to try something else. "Tell you what," he said. "How about if you simply loan it to me? I just need to study it a bit. After this is all over, I'll get it back to you."

"Study it? For what?" asked Aberforth.

"Well, surely you know that Voldemort was Slytherin's heir? I think the key to defeating him goes back that far," Harry said. Though that wasn't the reason he wanted it, what Harry said wasn't entirely untrue.

Aberforth seemed to contemplate this for a while. Eventually, he spoke, "You know, my brother was a very trusting person. Some may say that was his downfall." Harry couldn't see where Aberforth was going, but let him continue. "And you were no different. He trusted you implicitly."

Harry scoffed at this, thinking about all the things Dumbledore had kept from him for 'his own good.'

Aberforth understood and continued, "Of course, there were certain things he kept from you, but that was the same with everyone, even me. But with you, it was different." He stopped and paused again. "He told me I should help you out if I could. Which I guess means I should give it to you."

Harry's heart lifted and he watched Aberforth reach up and unfasten the locket from around his neck. Of course, Harry was confused as to why he would have been wearing it, but didn't say anything. After taking it off, Aberforth set the locket on the bar in front of Harry.

Harry picked it up and looked it over, his heart lifting again. This was definitely the locket he saw in Dumbledore's memories. It bore the decorative 'S' on the back, said to be Slytherin's mark. Harry held it in his hand, feeling the cold metal, and nothing else. He could sense any evil coming from it, which hopefully meant that someone had removed the soul piece from it. He would have to check it further when he got home, but it looked like he had caught another lucky break.

"So," Aberforth said, straightening his robes, "I expect it back whenever you're done."

Harry smiled and shook his head at the strange man. "Thanks," he told him, slipping the locket into his cloak. "I'd better be off." Harry stood up and placed several Sickles on the bar.

Aberforth nodded at him and grunted, reverting back to his usual, grumpy self. After fixing his hood, Harry turned and walked out the door, smiling to himself. He couldn't get over how odd he was and how different he was than Albus. I w_onder how he turned out like that,_ Harry thought, pulling his cloak tightly around him to combat the wind.

Now that he had gotten what he had come for, Harry headed home, leaving his musings stirring about in the cool, September breeze.

.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.

A/N – Sorry this took so long, but I had so many things going on, including a wedding, the holidays, school, and moving twice. Anyway, I'm back on track, and the next update won't take nearly as long. I'd like to thank everyone that reviewed and tell you to feel free to ask questions or point out any mistakes. It's been a while since I read the books so I'm constantly having to go back and check things. Also, in case you were confused, the italicized part was a flashback of sorts.


	9. On the Home Front

**Chapter 9**

**On the Home Front **

Harry checked his watch for the twenty-third time since he had arrived. Generally, he had a fair amount of patience. Today, however, he was uncharacteristically edgy and anxious. He shifted once again in the smooth leather armchair in which he sat. _Shouldn't be long now_.

Of course, his impatience was certainly understandable, and some would say understated. He was currently waiting for Severus Snape to arrive home.

Admittedly, Harry was quite pleased when he had finally tracked down his former professor. It had been difficult, but with help from some friends at the Ministry and the Order, as well as some of his own memories, he had enough clues to piece together. Even with those, though, it still took several weeks of looking and spying on certain people Harry thought to be in contact with his target. Harry had even shadowed two Death Eaters he had located. It was difficult to watch and not try to capture them, but Harry kept reminding himself that finding Snape was more important.

The oddest thing Harry did was pay a visit to Snape's old house, on Spinner's End. When he first arrived, he thought for sure he had the wrong address. For Snape to have lived in a Muggle village was about as ridiculous as Voldemort living there. He would have stuck out like a sore thumb, walking amongst the townspeople, his black robes wrapped around him and his usual sneer plastered on his face. And even if he stayed inside at all times, people were bound to notice something unusual.

After Harry had gotten over his initial confusion, he had forced his way into the run-down house and began looking. He scoured every room, even a few hidden ones, searching for anything that would point him in the right direction. Not only had he not found anything, but the whole experience was very unsettling and played on his nerves. He knew that Snape wasn't coming back, but he still couldn't shake the nagging feeling in the back of his mind. For some reason, he couldn't stop thinking about what Snape would do if he found Harry going through his things.

In the end, Harry finally found out where Snape was staying, in a small town just north of Middlesbrough. After his initial relief and joy, Harry was very apprehensive about confronting the man who killed Dumbledore. Since he watched those few of Dumbledore's memories after the months of wanting to kill Snape with his bare hands, Harry was uncertain how he felt about the Potions Master. He supposed he could no longer blame Snape for killing Dumbledore, but that wasn't the only crime he had committed.

Harry tried to push those thoughts from his mind and regain his focus. He was expecting Snape to arrive at any moment. Of course, he had been expecting that for nearly two hours now. Normally, he would have been fiddling with Gaunt's ring to combat his boredom, but he had taken it off. Harry didn't know how this meeting was going to go and he didn't want Snape returning to Voldemort and letting something slip about another of his Horcruxes.

At his last check of the time, he saw it was past midnight, meaning it was now Halloween. Harry found that information to be rather foreboding, causing him to shift again in his chair. Or, rather, in Snape's chair.

That's when Harry finally heard the front door unlatch and then swing open with a loud creak. Though the light from a nearby streetlamp wasn't close enough to reveal his hiding spot in the dark, he instinctively scooted back. The next second, the man he was waiting for entered. Harry gripped his wand tighter in his hand.

Holding his breath, he watched the other man close the door and lock it several times before turning back toward the sitting room. The complete darkness had returned, and Harry tracked his movement by sound as well as magically sensing him. _Here we go,_ Harry thought. _This ought to be fun_.

Harry wordlessly summoned Snape's wand, bringing it floating across the room to him. He could almost picture the look of fury on the other man's face as his wand slipped out of his fingers. "What the—" he yelled out as Harry felt the wand drop into his left hand.

He then flicked his own wand at the fire place, immediately illuminating the room in a flickering glow, and allowing him to see just how outraged Snape was. "Hello, Snivellus," Harry said smoothly.

The room itself was not much to look at. Nothing more than a few chairs and a table in one corner, and another group of chairs in a semicircle around the hearth. There were very few decorations, and Harry spotted several rips in the carpet and places where the wallpaper was peeling.

He quickly turned his attention to Snape, whose face was livid when he saw Harry. The lines in his face were as clear as Harry had ever seen them, and his cold, black eyes were actually showing emotion, though that emotion was a burning hatred.

"Potter!" he shouted. "What the hell do you think you're doing?!" He made a move to charge at Harry, who quickly raised his wand and pointed it at Snape's chest.

"Not so fast, Your Highness," Harry stopped him. "I'm only here to talk. I wouldn't have had to take this," he said, waving Snape's wand in his other hand, "if I could trust you to be civil."

Snape rage swelled with that remark and he hissed, "You insolent little brat!"

"Good, get all your insults out of the way early," Harry said evenly. "Now, sit down," he went on, gesturing to one of the chairs in front of him.

Harry could actually see Snape's teeth grinding together in anger as he thought. Harry decided to prompt him further. "I said sit. You're lucky I didn't kill you on the spot. It would be doing a lot of people a favour."

Snape sneered at this comment and tried taunting Harry again. "You, Potter? You couldn't kill me, you don't have it in you."

"Don't be so sure," Harry calmly countered. "Though I'm not a killer like your 'friends', I think I could make an exception for you. Now, _sit_."

With much reluctance, Snape strode over to the fireplace and took the seat furthest from Harry. After he had settled, he sneered again, looking simply horrible. The flickering from the nearby fire was casting shadows on his large, hooked nose and curled lip, giving him the appearance of something out of a bad horror movie.

"So, Potter, having trouble with Potions and need my expertise?" Snape jeered. Without his wand, he had to play Harry's game, but he certainly didn't have to like it.

"Hardly," Harry said. "I'm here to make a deal."

Snape smirked at this. "And what makes you think I'll deal with you?"

Harry smirked right back and answered, "Trust me, you won't refuse." He took a moment to get more comfortable in his seat before explaining. "I have learned, from my sources, that you're currently unhappy with your position among the other Death Eaters. Seems you killing Dumbledore didn't work out quite as you had expected." Harry watched as Snape's expression quickly turned from arrogant to shocked. As an accomplished Occlumens, he was very good at concealing his emotions, which was why it looked so odd to Harry to see him doing nothing to hide his surprise. Harry ignored it for the moment and tried to continue. "See, you thought—"

"How did you know that?" Snape cut him off, still believing that his involvement in Dumbledore's death was unknown.

"Because I was there, you idiot," Harry said shortly, not wanting to be interrupted. "I saw you do it. Didn't you notice the other broom up there? I mean, even Malfoy could see that."

Snape looked like he was torn between being angry at Harry for talking to him in such a manner, and being confused as to why Harry didn't seem bothered by the knowledge he had just revealed. In the end, he settled on sitting back in his chair and glaring at his guest.

"As I was saying," Harry said, making a point to sound annoyed, "you thought killing him would get you praise from Voldemort. And I suppose it did, but without the Headmaster to spy on, you were no longer as important as any of his other followers." He enjoyed seeing the perplexed look on Snape's face, who clearly couldn't understand how Harry knew such things. "So, you were forced back into doing various missions more dangerous in nature. I'm sure Voldemort trusts you more than most, given what you've done, but I doubt very much you're pleased with your current employment."

Snape tried to go back to his usual sour expression, and asked, "I assume you're going somewhere with this? Get to the point."

"Patience, Snape. I do have a deal for you, but it's important that we touch on the work you did for Dumbledore," Harry told him, making sure his wand was still aimed at the other man.

"And why is that?"

"Because," Harry told him with a grin, "I want you to do the same work for me."

Snape managed not to let his expression falter this time, but Harry knew he was completely baffled by what he just said. "Surely you must be joking," Snape said silkily. "What possible reason could you have for that?"

"Simple, really," Harry explained. "You have information I need. And access to information I will need."

"Potter, perhaps you should take some time to deflate your head and think about what you're saying," Snape said icily. "Putting yourself up on a pedestal and saying you're as important as Dumbledore? You have no business getting involved in such adult affairs."

"Quite the contrary, Snape," Harry told him. "You know as well as I do that this _is_ my business. Or have you forgotten the prophecy?"

Snape certainly wasn't expecting this piece of information. It only happened for a split second, but Harry noticed his eyes grow a fraction of a centimeter. It was enough for Harry to pick up on his surprise.

"Yes, I've heard it," explained Harry. "And I know you've heard it. Trelawney let that slip last June."

"Useless woman," muttered Snape.

"Regardless," Harry said, to let Snape know he heard the remark, "This is as much my fight as anyone's, if not more so. I don't see why you're so reluctant. I'm offering you your old job back. A chance to get out of the thick of things and back on the sidelines. Exactly what you want."

Snape seemed torn between remaining in his current position, or working with Harry. He didn't speak for the longest time, mentally weighing his options. "One question," he finally said. Harry arched his eyebrow to indicate he was listening. "If you saw me kill Dumbledore, then why are you trusting me now?"

Harry had been expecting this question to come up, and was ready for it. "Because," he answered, "Dumbledore left me some of his possessions when he died, including his Pensieve and several memories concerning that very subject."

Though Snape's sallow skin was quite pale already, Harry noticed a distinct change in his complexion, becoming even paler. It was obvious Snape knew exactly what memories Harry was talking about.

"I understand now why you had to kill Dumbledore. I can't blame you for that," Harry told him. "Though, if it was me, I would have died before letting something happen to him. But that's why I'm in Gryffindor and not Slytherin," Harry added with a smirk.

Snape sneered at him, understanding what he was implying. Slytherins may have friends, but they will always choose to save themselves when it comes down to it. "So you trust me completely now?" Snape said, sarcasm evident in his voice.

"Hardly," said Harry, still smirking. "I saw enough to know you aren't totally loyal to Voldemort. For all I know, you could be working solely for yourself… playing both sides, just waiting to see who comes out on top. If so, that's fine with me."

"Then how can you trust me with anything?" asked Snape.

"Easy. If you decide to help me out, it won't work like it did with Dumbledore," Harry explained. "I'm not going to share everything with you and then tell you which things you can tell Voldemort. I'm only going to tell you what I don't mind him knowing, nothing else."

Snape stood up and started pacing, shaking his head. "This is insane… Potter, you're just a pompous child. You have no idea what you're doing," he spat as he walked back and forth behind his chair.

"What did I say about keeping this civil?"

Snape shook his head again and started muttering to himself. Harry watched him pace for at least ten minutes, occasionally muttering and eyeing Harry. Harry just sat there patiently, waiting for him and twirling his wand in his fingers. Eventually, he came to a halt and spoke up.

Snape stood against the back of the chair and looked at Harry for a second before looking down and sighing. "I can't believe I'm gonna do this," he mumbled, shaking his head yet again.

Harry smiled inwardly when he heard this. "Splendid."

"But how do you even know the Dark Lord will go for it," Snape shot at him, clearly looking for some excuse not to have to help out Harry.

"Trust me, he will. There's no way he can pass it up," Harry told him. "Just go see him. Tell him I sought you out and wanted information… locations of Death Eater's homes or something. Tell him I'm going to keep coming to you for information until they're all behind bars. That way, Voldemort will think you have a reason to keep meeting with me. Then he'll want you to extract any information you can whenever you see me."

For some reason, this prompted Snape do look directly at him. Harry stared into his endless black eyes, knowing exactly what the other man was up to. "Don't bother," Harry said. "It won't work." He could feel Snape reaching out and trying to enter Harry's mind, but Harry blocked him easily.

Snape looked frustrated, but muttered, "Bound to learn something eventually."

"Yes, no thanks to you," Harry retaliated.

Ignoring this comment, Snape said, "So be it. I am meeting with the Dark Lord tomorrow evening. I will inform him of the situation. I hope you know you may have to relinquish some more important information if he's to believe this is genuine."

"Noted," Harry answered. "Now. If we're going to work together, we need to straighten something out." The time had finally come. Harry was going to tell his old professor exactly what he had wanted to ever since they had met.

Harry didn't wait for any response. "For the past six years, you've made my life a living hell. You've gone out of your way and done everything in your power to punish me unjustly, try to have me expelled, and harm me both mentally and in reputation. And you did the same to my friends. All because I happen to look like my father." Harry was staring directly at Snape, who stared right back, unflinching.

"All because I share the name and appearance of one of your childhood bullies," he went on. "I'm not arrogant, I don't strut, and any insolence I may have shown was brought on by how you treated me," Harry said, knowing that his words were burning Snape up inside. He continued, "I know now why you hated my dad. You made sure I found out about that. I understand why you hate them, but if you hadn't noticed, James and Sirius are both dead. Sure, they tormented you all those years ago, but you won out in the end, right?"

It hurt for Harry to talk about his dad and Godfather like that, but he needed to make a point. "I've never done anything to you like they did, so don't treat me like them. I'm not particularly fond of working with you, but there's no way I can do it if you're going to treat me the same way you always have. Like you would if I was my dad. Go curse his name, or spit on his grave, or something to get some closure. Just don't take it out on me. So, if we're going to do this, you're going to have to respect me and treat me like a human being."

Having finished, Harry sat back in his chair and waited for the explosion. Snape's face was once again contorted with fury, but he seemed to be holding it inside, as if battling with the thought of conceding. Harry knew he wouldn't take kindly to being talked down to in such a manner, but it was something that needed to be said.

Snape's jaw reluctantly relaxed, but he snorted before he spoke, intent on showing his displeasure for the situation in some way. He was positively seething, but did his best to keep his voice even. "Very well," he hissed. "You win. If that's what it takes, I will… _respect_ you." He spoke he word with loathing, but nodded and sat back down nonetheless.

"Marvelous," Harry said. "And I will give you what I can to make sure Voldemort doesn't get suspicious." For Severus Snape to give in like that, especially to Harry, was phenomenal, and Harry wanted to make him feel more comfortable. Although, Snape had something else on his mind.

"Can you at least not say the Dark Lord's name?" he hissed.

"Sorry, no," Harry stated. "Now, since we've got everything squared away, I have something more important to discuss." Harry tossed Snape's wand back to him as a sign of trust. He caught it and looked back at Harry, who had returned his own wand to his sleeve. Snape followed suit and slid his back into his robes while folding his arms across his chest. He then arched an eyebrow, indicating for Harry to continue.

"First off, I need to know the names of the Death Eaters who killed Angelina Johnson, Padma Patil, and the Grangers," Harry said firmly.

Snape looked at him questioningly. "And why would you want to know that?"

"They were my friends," Harry told him. "Perhaps you understand the concept of friendship."

Snape curled his lip at this remark, but answered. "I don't know who cast the spells, but Avery and Nott were the ones on those missions."

That didn't make sense at all. "Avery and Nott?" Harry asked, certain that Snape was mistaken. "But they were captured at the Ministry. They're still in Azkaban."

"I'm afraid not," Snape said, smirking. "Another one of the Ministry's mistakes. The Dark Lord rescued them last May, only, the Ministry didn't want another panic, so it was covered up."

"Those fools," Harry spat. He had hoped things would change dramatically with Scrimgeour. But then something else occurred to him. "What about Bellatrix? Has she been freed yet?"

"Fortunately, no," answered Snape. "But not for lack of trying. She's not being held in Azkaban."

"Then where?"

"We don't know. It seems the Ministry is starting to catch on. She is being detained at a secret location only a select few know of. No one has been able to locate her yet," he explained.

Harry thought about this for a second. "What about Voldemort? Can't he use the Dark Mark to find her?"

Snape cringed at the name, but answered. "Normally, yes. However even that has yielded no results. Either she is being held very far away, or they have found a way to block the connection somehow."

"How far away would she have to be?"

Snape pondered this before saying, "I'd say, the other side of the planet."

"That's unlikely," Harry said. He then moved on to his other question. "One last thing… where is Lucius Malfoy?"

"Ah, funny you should mention him," Snape said, perking up. "He's still in Azkaban, of course. The Dark Lord is quite displeased with him."

"I thought he might be," Harry said, more to himself. "Have you heard the reason why?"

"Well, I would assume it was because of his debacle at the Ministry. He was supposed to be in charge, but he failed. Quite spectacularly, I might add," said Snape.

"You almost sound pleased," Harry noted. "Had a fight with your best mate?"

"What are you prattling on about, Potter?" Snape spat. "You should know, for me to be effective, I must have information. Lucius has more contacts than you can imagine."

"My apologies," Harry told him. There was a subtle hint there that Harry picked up on. He smiled to himself, wondering if it meant what he thought.

Regardless, Harry was hoping this wasn't the answer to Lucius' continual imprisonment. He believed Lucius was being punished for his careless handling of Voldemort's diary, and had thought Snape might have heard a rumor to that extent. Harry knew that Voldemort knew the diary was destroyed. And that being said, it was logical that Voldemort had already made or was planning to make another Horcrux to get back to seven. Harry hoped this wasn't the case, but he had to be prepared for any scenario. Perhaps he could talk to Dumbledore about it sometime.

"Well, that was all I had for the moment," Harry said while rising to his feet, the tone of his voice lacking in inflection. Snape followed suit and Harry told him, "Owl me after your meeting tomorrow. After that, I will find you next time I need you."

Snape merely nodded in acknowledgement. Harry stopped at the door, looking back at the unpleasant man. "I'm proud of you, Snape," Harry said with a smile that was sure to infuriate him. "Who would have thought you could be so compliant? So submissive."

Snape snorted in disgust. "Don't flatter yourself, Potter. If putting up with you is what it takes, it's a small price to pay."

Harry continued to smile, reading right through Snape. It was obvious he was willing to help Harry, but he was certainly not happy about it. It was burning him up inside, and Harry was surprised at his level of self-restraint. "Until next time," Harry said, and exited the house. He immediately disappeared into the fog, leaving Snape to wonder if he really _had_ lost his mind.

.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.

After Harry woke up later that morning, he went about his normal day's routine. He trained, learned new spells, studied his subjects, did research, and viewed several memories in the Pensieve. If felt good to have some structure about his life, not being in school, and he was enjoying working at his own pace. Though, when he thought about what he was trying to accomplish, his own pace increased two or three times.

Through the whole day's activities, Harry couldn't stop thinking about his meeting with Snape earlier. He hadn't expected it to go nearly as well as it did. He figured he would've had to spend several hours trying to convince the stubborn man. The outcome was a testament to just how Slytherin he was. Snape must value his life and well-being above all else, to actually agree to help Harry Potter, of all people.

What was even more impressive was how Snape had allowed Harry to demean and belittle him without retaliation. Even though he didn't have a wand, Harry half-expected Snape to lunge at him and kill Harry with his bare hands. Then Harry thought back to that remark he had made about Lucius. _I just hope it means what I think it does,_ he mused.

After several hours of attempts, Harry finally shut his Charms book. He hadn't made nearly as much progress as he would have liked. Every time he tried to read a passage, something out the window would catch his eye. Outside Number 12, the sky was a beautiful forget-me-not blue, perfectly clear in every direction. In fact, it had been like this for several days now. Harry longed to be able to jump on his Firebolt and spend the rest of the afternoon flying; spending time alone on his broom always seemed to clear his mind and soothe his nerves. He was constantly having to force his mind back on track, yet, tempting as the scene outside was, he couldn't bring himself to close the drapes.

He hadn't noticed before, but throughout most of the day, Harry was feeling drowsy and almost nodded off a couple times in the library. Since he was up so late talking to Snape, plus the trip halfway across the island and back, he didn't get nearly enough sleep. And his reading just now had made his eyelids feel like they weighed several tons.

Looking over at the clock, he decided it would be all right to have a nap. He let out a great yawn as he made his way over to the bed. It was so warm and inviting that he didn't even bother getting undressed. He set his wand down on the nightstand next to the real locket before climbing on the bed and settling in.

Harry was quite pleased when he had come home from the Hog's Head Pub a month ago and found the locket to be lacking a piece of Voldemort's soul. He didn't know the whole story of it, but, if not by Regulus, then somewhere along the line, the fragment was removed, making Harry's job that much easier. With that out of the way, there were hopefully only two Horcruxes left before Voldemort himself.

That is, if Voldemort didn't make a new one after learning of the diary's destruction. It made sense that he would have, but Harry needed to be sure before he started searching. He didn't want to waste time looking when what he sought didn't exist. Then again, he definitely didn't want to confront Voldemort until he was absolutely sure that if he won, it would be the end.

It was with these thoughts, and many others swirling about his mind, that Harry quickly drifted off to sleep. And it was with a bit of fortune that he was too tired to bother clearing his head.

He awoke suddenly, several hours later, his scar searing with pain. Harry tried to sit up, wondering if he woke up from the pain, or whatever was jumping up and down on his chest.

"Harry Potter must wake up! Harry Potter needs to wake up now!"

Harry opened his eyes looked in front of him, bleary-eyed. The sun had already gone down, and, though his room was relatively dark, he could make out the tiny form of Dobby standing on top of him, shifting back and forth and clutching his ears.

"Gah! Dobby, I'm up. Just get off me," Harry slurred, sitting up and trying to push the house elf away. His scar was still burning and he gently rubbed while trying to remember what had caused the pain.

Dobby finally leapt onto the bed and squeaked, "Please forgive Dobby, but Harry Potter was screaming!"

Harry certainly didn't remember screaming. "Was I?" he asked. "Just a bad dream, that's all. I'm fine now." He sat up and continued rubbing his head. The pain was starting to subside, but images of his dream were flooding in more clearly. "No… no, not fine."

He remembered seeing Death Eaters, their white masks not hard to overlook. There were over a dozen of them, walking down a dirt road and casting spells at various buildings along the way. "It's Death Eaters, Dobby. They're attacking somewhere." Dobby squeaked in fright at this information as Harry continued searching through his memories, trying to figure out where they were. "I think… oh, shit," he said, quickly hopping off the bed.

Or, at least, he tried to. During his nap, he had gotten twisted up in the sheets, and when he tried to get to his feet, all he managed to do was tumble off the bed and land hard on his back. "Damn it!" he yelled, trying to untangle himself but failing miserably. Dobby peered over the edge of the bed to see what had happened, before snapping his thin fingers and vanishing the sheets.

Harry didn't bother thanking him as he scrambled to his feet and flew over to the wardrobe to start changing. Dobby was right on his heels, and asked, "What is it? Where is Harry Potter going?"

Harry slid his vest on over his undershirt and then pulled on a jumper and his jacket. "It's Hogsmeade, Dobby. That's where they're attacking," he told the elf as he started putting on his boots. He then muttered, more to himself, "If I saw that, it could mean Voldemort's there." He just hoped he would get lucky.

Upon hearing this, Dobby grabbed his arm to stop him. "Harry Potter can't! He can't go if He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is there! Harry Potter is not ready to face him!" he cried.

"It doesn't matter, Dobby," said Harry, pulling away and finishing. "There are too many innocent people there. And, Hogsmeade is too close to Hogwarts. I can't let anything happen to my friends. Besides, Voldemort might not be there." He stood up and dashed over to the night stand.

Again, Dobby followed right behind him. "But if the Dark Lord is there, he will kill Harry Potter! Harry Potter mustn't," he said.

"Sorry, Dobby. I'll have to risk it," Harry said, grabbing his wand. "They might need my help."

"Please, Harry Potter—"

"I'll be fine Dobby," Harry cut him off. "I'll be back later tonight." With that, he Apparated away, hoping he wasn't too late.

.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.

Harry landed at the start of the path that led off into the mountains and Sirius' cave, just outside of town. He had mentally prepared himself for the worst, but it was still a major shock when he saw what lay in front of him: Hogsmeade in flames.

Nearly half of the houses were ablaze, and with more and more going up each minute. Screams were emanating from all over the village, punctuated by the bright flashes of spells being cast. Huge columns of smoke were billowing into the air, and through them, hanging over the homes, Harry could just make out one Dark Mark already sent up.

The sight made Harry's heart hurt and he nearly fell to his knees as he looked on in sorrow. It didn't last long though. As the screams and shouts increased, Harry's sadness turned to anger. He felt it quickly rise and bubble inside him. He was going to stop every single Death Eater that stepped foot into Hogsmeade tonight. Drawing his wand, he quickly set off down the path and into the outskirts.

He hadn't been running for long when he heard a loud _bang_ and another scream, this one much closer. It had come from his right, no more than a few streets over. Harry immediately changed direction and sought out the source.

In the middle of the next street, Harry found the two figures he was looking for. A tall man in black robes was standing over someone on the ground, wand pointed down at them. Though the man was facing away from Harry, he could make out a Death Eater mask, causing Harry to grip his wand tighter. He was saying something to the figure on the ground, but Harry didn't bother listening as he aimed his wand and muttered, "_Stupefy_."

The jet of red light hit the Death Eater in the middle of the back, instantly Stunning him as he toppled forward. The figure on the ground scooted away to avoid him, getting out of the way just in time. As soon at he landed, Harry raised his wand again and said, "_Incarcerous_," sending thin ropes to wrap around the man and bind him tightly.

Harry then moved forward to help up the fallen victim, saying, "Hey, are you all…right…" but trailed off when he finally saw who it was. "Hermione?" he asked in disbelief.

It was indeed a breathless Hermione, sitting on the ground and looking around for her wand. As Harry looked down on her, all his undeciphered feelings surfaced, after he had spent so long blocking them out. He tried to push them back down, but as he looked at Hermione, all he could think about was how much he missed her. Both in having her around, and also in having her as a friend.

Through all this, Harry also realised something else. If Hermione was here, that probably meant there were more students down here as well. And it definitely meant the some of the staff and Order were here. The latter didn't bother him as they were all fully trained witches and wizards, but if the students were in the village, they were in trouble. Practically none of them had ever faced a Death Eater before, and it looked like Voldemort didn't want them to take any prisoners. A fact to which Hermione could probably attest.

As much as he wanted to take advantage of having Hermione alone to talk to, he knew that now wasn't the best time for that. "Hermione, where are the others? Everyone else that came down from the castle?" he asked.

When the Death Eater had first been stunned, Hermione had sat up and nursed a bump forming on her forehead while she looked around for her wand. But when she looked up and saw Harry standing over her she immediately tensed up. Her expression slightly harder in a split-second, and she merely gaped at him, unsure what to think or feel. At his latest question, she brushed him off, and rose to retrieve her wand that had fallen a few yards away.

It hurt Harry to see her treat him like this, but he didn't have time for that right now. He grabbed her by both arms, stopping her and turning her to face him. "Look, Hermione, I know you're upset and mad at me, and you have every reason to be." She leveled an icy stare at him as Harry continued, "But there's something more important going on right now. These people need our help." He took an arm off her to wave in the direction of the burning houses. "We need to save as many people as we can."

Hermione looked down for a moment, thinking about his words, before nodding slightly. Harry was relieved to see this, and was about to repeat his question, when he was knocked on his back. A loud explosion rang out from the center of the village, with enough strength to force both of them to the ground. _I think I got my answer_, he thought.

He quickly got to his feet and helped up Hermione before he looked in the direction of the blast. There were no extra flames or smoke to lead him, but fortunately he knew the village well enough to tell that it came from the main street, where all the shops were. He needed to there as soon as possible.

"Ok, Hermione, you go find as many people as you can and start putting out these fires," he told her hastily. She didn't argue or linger, immediately turning and heading down the road toward the blazing homes. Harry went the other way to get to the battle and stop it if he could.

He had only run a dozen steps when Hermione's scream echoed behind him. He came to a halt, but didn't need telling what had happened. The chilling feeling that was slowly enveloping him was unmistakable. It seems the Dementors had shown up.

Harry whipped around to see a tall, black-cloaked figure bearing down on Hermione. It's deep, rattling breath was audible even at this distance. He rushed forward to help, seeing how Hermione was struggling to ward off the effects of the Dementor.

"Ex-Expecto… Expec—" Harry heard her say. Even though she had managed to produce a corporeal Patronus with the D.A., casting the spell in the presence of a Dementor was much different.

Before the Dementor could get any closer, Harry raised his wand, concentrated on the memory of his first ever surprise party, and shouted, "_Expecto Patronum!_"

A large, silver stag exploded from his wand and immediately charged toward the Dementor. Hermione gasped in surprise, and probably respite, at Harry's words, and turned just in time to see the stag fly past her and slam its head into the Dementor, sending it soaring backwards. It tumbled through the air for several seconds before righting itself, and made to glide back toward its prey, but in sensing the Patronus still present, turned and flew off.

Harry sighed in relief as he saw the Dementor disappear and felt the unnatural cold lifting. His relief was short-lived though. No time at all had passed before he heard several screams and shouts from not far off. Through the commotion, he was able to pick up one man yelling out, "Dementors!"

"Oi! This way!" he shouted at the silver form of his Patronus, who raised its head toward Harry. Harry waved for it to follow before taking off in the direction of the voices he had just heard, leaving Hermione alone, frowning at a conjured piece of chocolate that had appeared at her side.

Harry ran along the road at top speed, hoping he wasn't too late, as the stag galloped gracefully along beside him. He had to concentrate slightly, to keep his Patronus from fading, which was difficult, with all the thoughts rapidly swirling about his mind. He made himself keep his focus, somewhat happy to have some company.

As he crossed over to the next road, Harry could feel the cruel chill sweeping back over him. He tried to ignore it as best he could as he kept running. With his Occlumency, Harry was delighted to find that he could block out the Dementors' other effects. Since his mind was blocked, they couldn't get inside and force him to relive his worst memories. It made things much easier, especially when he needed a clear head to conjure a Patronus.

Harry rounded the next corner and found he was at his destination. A dozen witches and wizards were out in the street, trying desperately to fight off several Dementors. They either couldn't cast the Patronus Charm, or didn't have the mental capacity. Most of them were casting any spell they could think, but to no avail. The beams of light hit their attackers and dissipated instantly, the cloaked figures not flinching.

Fortunately, the giant stag went to work as soon as they arrived, attacking every Dementor present. Two of the black creatures were converging on one man nearby. The man had lost his wand and was curled up in a ball on the ground, whimpering at what was, no doubt, playing inside his head. The Patronus quickly ran in between the Dementors and caught the first one in its antlers, tossing it aside like a rag doll. It then picked up its hind legs and planted them forcefully in the second Dementors chest, sending it reeling, and eventually off into the night.

Harry rushed over to help the fallen wizard as his Patronus make short work of the other Dementors. The man wasn't too bad off, and Harry forced him to eat some chocolate he had conjured. Once he had swallowed it, Harry stood back up in time to see his stag back on its hind legs, kicking away the final Dementor.

The rest of the villagers were all right, and none of them had been Kissed. Harry left them some more chocolate before taking off again, waving behind them as they offered their thanks. His stag was right alongside him again, as Harry couldn't be sure how many Dementors were in the village.

He was now making his way toward the sound of the earlier explosion as fast as he could, the Patronus running silently in front of him, lighting his path. He had jogged for about five minutes without running into anyone or anything. He obviously wasn't as close to High Street as he thought. It sounded like the fighting was going on all around him, but a long ways off. What was even more disconcerting was that, even though he had run some distance, the burning houses behind him looked to be just as far away as when he left. He prayed that Hermione could act quickly enough to stop the fires from spreading anymore.

Harry continued running in what he thought was the right direction. He needed to find the others and help them as quickly as possible. And then without warning, as they were going through an intersection of two roads, Harry's Patronus turned and headed to the right. Harry skidded to a halt and turned to see a large, shadowed form leaning up against one of the buildings. Harry couldn't make out what it was, but he had a pretty good idea, seeing how it attracted the silver stag's attention.

He sprinted over and saw the light from the Patronus reveal another Dementor, its faceless head inches from another body. The stag wasted no time disposing of the abomination, and its victim fell to a heap on the ground. Harry dashed over and helped the man to sit up against the wall. After checking him, Harry was relived to see that the Dementor hadn't managed to suck out the man's soul.

"Hey, sir," Harry said, trying to rouse him from his daze. "Sir, can you hear me?"

The man raised his head and looked at Harry, his eyes slowly widening. "Harry…Potter?" he groaned. The square-jawed man looked so familiar, but Harry couldn't figure out where he knew him from. "Harry Potter, it is you," he said, with more strength in his voice. "Thank… thank Merlin you're here. The Order will need more help."

That was it. The Order, that's where Harry knew him from. "Sturgis!" It was Sturgis Podmore, one of the wizards that comprised Harry's advance guard from the summer before his fifth year. He also remembered that Sturgis had been sent to Azkaban during that year. He didn't look well at all. "Sorry, I didn't recognise you at first."

"No worries," Sturgis said, before going into a coughing fit. The effects of the Dementor should have worn off by now, but Sturgis still looked very weak. His straw-coloured hair was much darker than Harry remembered, but he then realised it was soaked with sweat and… _Blood?_

"Sturgis, are you alright?" Harry asked swiftly.

"Fine, lad, I'll be fine," he strained to say. "You need to help the rest." He then shifted into a more comfortable position, and revealed a large gash across his midsection.

Harry swore under his breath and tried to assess the wound. "Sturgis, sit back and I'll take care of this."

"No… Harry, go. Don't worry about me," he tried to resist.

"You know I can't do that," Harry told him. "I don't really want to bind you, but I will if I have to."

Sturgis chuckled softly at this, and conceded. Harry then did a quick scan of the wound. It wasn't very long, but was quite deep. It was with quite a bit of luck that none of the organs had been damaged. Harry silently set to work healing it as best he could.

"I guess it was Moody's fault," Sturgis said, explaining what had happened. "He sent me off to help put out the fires while the rest of them fought the Death Eaters. I had made it about this far when two white masks appeared in front of me. Couldn't react in time… they roughed me up pretty bad… Ah!" he gasped in pain.

"Sorry," Harry muttered, and tried to be gentler. He had healed the wound for the most part, and now just needed to seal it up.

"So, they left me for dead, and I wasn't far off… but I managed to fix myself up a bit," Sturgis went on. "I was about to get to this," he gestured to his stomach, "when that ruddy Dementor showed up."

Harry had just finished tracing his wand along the cut when Sturgis stopped talking. "That should about do it," Harry told him, leaning back and wiping the blood off his hands.

"Much better, thanks," Sturgis sighed. "That twice you just saved my life. Now, go and help the others."

"What about you?" asked Harry.

"Just leave me here, I'll be ok." Harry didn't want to just leave him, considering his condition, and it must have been evident on Harry's face. "Go on, I can handle myself. I feel much better now."

Harry was still hesitant, but decided Sturgis wasn't in any immediate danger. He stood up and said, "All right. I'll come back and get you as soon as things calm down."

"You're a good kid, Harry," Sturgis said with a smile. "Your parents would be proud of you. Now, go… it's not far, just right over there," he said pointing in the direction Harry had been heading before he stopped.

Harry didn't need anymore encouragement as he turned and ran down the road, alone this time. His Patronus had long since dissolved.

As he got closer, he came across several bodies lying in the street. When he reached out and sensed that none of them were still alive, he picked up his pace, running at top speed. Those could just as easily have been his friends and he wasn't going to let anything happen to them because he didn't get there in time.

After only a few more minutes, Harry finally reached his destination. He turned at the next street and just barely avoided getting hit by a stray spell. When he looked up, he found himself surrounded by the shops he used to visit, as well as a rather fierce battle.

He was right in the middle of a dozen Death Eaters and about an equal number from Hogwarts and the Order. McGonagall, Moody, Flitwick and an Order member Harry recognised from his advance guard were fighting a group on one side while Remus, Ron, Ginny, Neville, and Luna were trying to hold off another bunch on his other side. Across the street, Hagrid was doing his best to fight the huge Death Eater Harry had seen at the Hogwarts last June.

Harry quickly stunned the closest Death Eater, thankful his back was turned, before joining the rest. He heard several Death Eaters shouting at his arrival, and one calling out, "It's Potter!" One of them turned and started firing spells at Harry as he worked his way over to McGonagall's group.

"What took you so long, Potter? Your reclusion making you soft?" Moody growled when Harry reached him.

Harry sent off a Stunner at his attacker before answering, "No, not yet. Is this the last of them?"

Moody dodged a curse that was sent his way, showing surprising grace and agility for someone his age (though Harry didn't dare remark on it). "No idea," he answered. "We've been fighting all over the village."

"And who let the students come down here?" Harry asked, using his shield to reflect a spell back toward its caster.

"You'll have to ask the Headmistress about that," said Moody.

Harry went back to focusing on his own foe. He obviously didn't know who it was because of the mask, but that didn't really matter. All the Death Eaters were just as deadly.

_Except for this one_, Harry thought, somewhat bemusedly. The Death Eater he was fighting hadn't cast the Killing Curse yet, even though Harry was hearing it from several of the others. Apparently Harry 'belonged to the Dark Lord' still. Voldemort must want to finish Harry off himself, which, at the present, he didn't mind at all. If whoever he fought was going to refrain from using lethal curses, it was a huge advantage.

Harry fired another Stunner and quickly dodged as it came back off his opponent's shield. As he straightened up, he saw an opening and promptly took it. The Death Eater dueling with McGonagall had knocked the Headmistress down and was standing over her, but had his guard completely down. Harry sent and Impediment Jinx into his back, freezing him long enough for McGonagall pick herself up and Stun him.

Satisfied, Harry turned back to his own opponent while McGonagall helped Hagrid. Harry was trying ever spell he knew, but to no avail. The Death Eater was blocking or dodging everything before returning some nasty spells of his own. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry watched as one by one, his friends fell, either stunned or injured. Remus was holding his own, but was starting to get overwhelmed. Somewhat luckily, three of the Death Eaters on their side of the street Disapparated to other parts of the village, leaving Remus to fight only two at once.

In the end, though, Remus couldn't hold out, and fell to the ground unconscious with a large would on his temple. His two assailants disappeared soon after, and Harry's determination grew tenfold as his father's friend bleed on the ground. Unfortunately, his Death Eater still wasn't showing any sign of weakness.

Harry heard another body hit the ground, and looked over to see the other Order member in their group. The Death Eater standing over him shot a curse at Moody, who couldn't react quickly enough and was slammed into the nearest building. Moody had just incapacitated his opponent and had turned to help Harry when he was hit from behind.

Harry was now the only one left fighting, and McGonagall, Hagrid, and Flitwick were the only others left standing. McGonagall made to rush over and help Harry, but he stopped her.

"No! I'll take care of him myself," Harry shouted, sidestepping a spell that was coming toward him. "You need to get our people back to the castle and to Madam Pomfrey. I'll clean up here."

McGonagall didn't look convinced. "Potter, you'll need our help. What if more show up?"

"I'm more worried about Remus bleeding to death right now," Harry said through gritted teeth. He was finding it difficult to have a conversation while in the middle of a duel, and nearly got hit several times. "Headmistress, you need to be concerned about your students. Their safety is more important… there's no telling how many more came down from the school and are still in the village."

Harry using her title seemed to emphasise his point and she agreed. "Very well. Filius, you grab Alastor and Elphias. Hagrid, you get the children."

They quickly carried out her orders, while McGonagall took care of Remus. Before leaving, she turned back and gave Harry a meaningful glance. Harry nodded and she headed out of the village with the others.

The Death Eater, who had ceased firing at Harry, started chuckling softly. "So, Potter, you think you can defeat me by yourself?" he asked jeeringly. "You shouldn't have let them go. I shall gain the Dark Lord's honour when I throw your broken body at his feet."

"I doubt it," Harry scoffed. "And next time you see Voldemort, tell him to come and fight me himself."

The other man hissed in anger at this. "How dare you befoul the Dark Lord by speaking his name with your half-blood lips?" he shouted and fired the Cruciatus Curse.

Harry dodged it easily and taunted, "You'll have to do better than that."

Instead of retaliating, his opponent quelled his anger and merely chuckled again. "Very well, Potter. Let's get on with it," he said. He then reached up to his mask and added, "I suppose I can get rid of this. After all, it will be the last face you ever see." Harry watched as he pulled his mask off and threw it aside, revealing the long, pale, twisted face of Antonin Dolohov.

Harry felt his face flush with anger as he saw the man's grinning visage. The person before him was the one responsible for murdering the Prewetts, Molly's brothers. He was also the one that nearly killed Hermione back at the Ministry.

Dolohov noticed Harry's reaction and said, "Not happy to see me, Potter? Surely you're not still sore about that scuffle at the Ministry. Did I end up killing that Mudblood girl?"

That statement nearly caused Harry to fly at him in a blind fury. He forced himself to remain calm, knowing that he would need a clear head in order to fight more effectively. "You know you didn't," Harry countered. "In fact, _no one_ died. Your elite group of wizards couldn't even kill six students that you outnumbered two to one." Harry then raised his wand and set himself, ready to continue the duel.

Dolohov merely grinned wider. "Very well, Potter," he laughed. "If you're so eager to die then I won't keep you waiting."

He also raised his wand, firing a spell at Harry. Harry was ready though, deflecting it back with his shield. Harry returned fire, but Dolohov merely dodged it.

Several minutes of mild fighting ensued, each opponent casting minor curses, Stunners or Disarming Spells, none of which landed on their target. "Well, Potter, it seems you have some slight skill after all," Dolohov admitted. "But enough of this child's play. _Crucio!_"

Harry spun to his right to avoid the curse flying at him. As he came around and lined up his wand with Dolohov, he shouted, "_Diffractum!_" It was Harry's way of showing the Death Eater that he could play just as dirty.

Dolohov seemed surprised at the spell that Harry had sent at him, and just narrowly avoided it. "Don't try to use the Dark Arts on me Potter! I was trained by the Dark Lord himself!" Dolohov shouted.

"Yeah, I think every Death Eater has made that claim," Harry taunted. Harry was inclined to believe him, thought, when Dolohov cast another spell Harry had read about but never witnessed.

One that he didn't want to witness. He dived to his left and rolled on the ground wanting to get as far away from the spell as possible. It was a horrible curse designed to disembowel the victim. Dolohov wasn't using the Killing Curse, but he certainly wasn't fooling around.

Harry stood up and tried a plan of his own. He fired an Impediment Jinx and then immediately shouted, "_Telum!_" The first spell was aimed at Dolohov's right shoulder, off-center enough for him to dodge to the left instead of blocking it. When he did, the Death Eater stepped right into Harry's second curse.

The dozens of tiny, golden darts that shot out of Harry's wand would have turned Dolohov into a pincushion if the other man hadn't reacted just in the nick of time. His eyes wide at the barrage of points coming straight at him, he managed to avoid most of them by falling backwards. Of course, it was entirely subconscious, so he couldn't think quickly enough to soften the blow, landing hard on his back and completely winding him.

Nevertheless, he immediately rolled to one side, forcing the projectiles deeper into his flesh, but avoiding Harry's next spell. A jet of light flew in and exploded in the dirt where Dolohov had been lying seconds before. Dolohov stood back up, grunting in pain and rage churning inside him. He raised his wand and shouted, "_Diffractum!_"

Harry was well prepared for it though. His slight bit of skills in Legilimency allowed him to read other's emotions, and the anger was quite evident in his opponent's eyes. He knew Dolohov was going to cast a spell and had already started dodging before the incantation was finished.

Harry calmly countered, aiming his wand and saying, "_Congelare_." A jet of blue-white shot from Harry's wand, narrowly missing its target as Dolohov brought a shield up just in time to deflect it to one side. The spell impacted on one of the buildings, freezing and causing ice to spread several feet in all directions.

Dolohov responded with another Cruciatus Curse, which Harry parried easily. Despite his lack of experience and skill in comparison to Dolohov, Harry knew that he had the upper hand. With all of his Occlumency training, Harry had the ability to suppress his emotions and raise his concentration. Dolohov, on the other hand, was fighting with his anger, which might work at times, but he was bound to start making mistakes.

Unfortunately, it was Harry that made the next mistake. Another loud explosion from his right drew Harry's attention away. He realised his mistake when he heard Dolohov shout, "_Everbero!_" Harry turned around just in time to see the Bludgeoning Hex strike him in the face.

The impact knocked him backwards and he landed hard on the ground, sending a splash of crimson away from him. He tried to jump back up but the pain in his face and back was too much, garnering a cruel laugh from Dolohov. Harry's nose was definitely broken and was bleeding freely, as was his lip, and he felt one of his eyes swelling up rapidly. Fighting through the pain, Harry gingerly raised himself into a sitting position and slowly stood up. His entire face felt like it was on fire and he was rather dizzy, having difficulty standing up straight, but he tried to regain his focus, knowing Dolohov wouldn't give him any more time to recover. In fact, he was surprised the Death Eater hadn't attacked Harry while he was down.

Dolohov was still smirking, his previous anger now replaced by his natural arrogance. Harry spat out a mouthful of blood, grimacing at the taste, and said, "Not bad… but not enough."

Sneering, Dolohov said, "Please, Potter, you're nothing special. If I can beat you this easily, how do you think you'll fare against the Dark Lord?"

"But you haven't beaten me," Harry countered, smiling ruefully until his face screamed in protest.

His dizziness subsiding, Harry held his wand tightly at his side, ready to continue. The fires, which had been spreading steadily all night, had finally caught up with Harry. The buildings on one side of the street were now burning, and the soft crackling was the only thing audible. Harry only hoped that some of the fires had been put out and that that whole half of the village wasn't destroyed.

Despite his dread as to the extent of the damage, Harry continued staring at Dolohov, waiting for him to make the first move. The next second they heard something that distracted them both: the pounding footsteps of someone running toward them, sounding clearly over the nearby blaze. Harry looked over to see a very bewildered and clearly lost Hermione approaching between two shops. She had quite a bit of soot and ash on her robes, which were partially burned.

She froze when she saw Harry and a Death Eater looking at her, and gasped when she realised it was Dolohov. Dolohov, on the other hand, grinned maliciously when he saw Hermione. "Well, well, well… we were just talking about you. In fact, Potter here was just taunting me about not managing to kill you when we last met. Perhaps I should rectify that mistake."

He started walking over towards her, and Hermione clutched at her chest as she stood there, paralysed with fear. Harry knew she was holding her scar that she got from her last encounter with Dolohov. Though she was holding her wand, Hermione was too shocked to defend herself.

Harry raised his wand and said, "_Accio robes_." It was like an invisible hand had grabbed the back of Dolohov's robes and was pulling him along the ground, their owner still inside. "Leave her out of this, Dolohov… I'm the one you want," Harry snarled.

The Death Eater threw off the spell and stood up, saying, "Yes, but I've grown bored with you. I think I'll amuse myself with your girlfriend." He then threw a Reductor Curse at Harry's feet.

Harry jumped back but couldn't avoid being showered by the dirt that Dolohov had blasted off the ground. The bulk of it flew up into his face, temporarily blinding him. His eyes stung, as did the wounds on his face, and he desperately rubbed his eyes to clear them out. That failed and only caused him more pain, so he washed them out with a jet of water from his wand tip.

When he could see again, he watched Hermione snap out of it, and fire four Stunners in rapid succession. Dolohov easily blocked the first three, then Disapparated milliseconds before the fourth hit him. He instantly reappeared a few feet away, before Disarming Hermione before she could react. Harry watched her wand fly from her hand and land further down the road.

Harry aimed his wand and muttered, "_Occido_." An invisible rope wrapped around Dolohov's legs and pulled him to the ground. He grunted as he landed hard, but got up quickly and fired another curse at Harry's leg. It connected and Harry heard a distinct _snap_ as his leg gave out and he fell.

Dolohov then pointed his wand straight up and shouted "_CONTEGO!_" A blanket of blue energy flowed from his wand and slowly encompassed Dolohov in a shimmering dome. Harry recognised it as a much more complex form of the basic Shield Charm. It could block any spell thrown at it, but the caster had to focus all of his magical energy into sustaining it, meaning he couldn't attack while the shield was raised.

"Now, Potter, I want you to watch," Dolohov sneered. "Watch how easily the Dark Lord can take away anything you hold dear." While he was talking, Harry saw him draw a long, thin dagger from the folds of his robes.

After firing a dozen curses and seeing them all deflected away, Harry's mind raced, trying to find a way out of this. Dolohov, meanwhile, started advancing on Hermione again. Hermione, whose eyes were still wide with fear, had finally unfrozen and slowly backed away from her attacker. When she ran into the shop behind her, she looked back and forth between Harry and Dolohov in horror.

Harry wanted to scream at the situation he was in. A Death Eater was about to kill Hermione and there was nothing he could do about it. Well… there was _one_ thing. He knew of a spell that no magical shield could block. A spell that would stop Dolohov quite easily. The Killing Curse.

_There has to be another way_, Harry thought, mind racing. Dolohov was walking very slowly, clearly wanting Harry to suffer as much as possible. But still, Harry didn't have long. "Damn it!" he shouted and punched the ground in front of him in frustration. He couldn't see any other options, save for letting Hermione die. That, he would not allow. He stood up gingerly so he could get a clear view, balancing on his good leg.

He felt his anger boiling inside him. Anger at Voldemort and his Death Eaters for being so heartless. Hatred at the situation he was put in and his only alternative. He felt his face flush and his eyes burn, unable to block out his emotions any longer. With another look at the terror and desperation in Hermione's eyes, Harry decided.

"_AVADA KEDAVRA!_"

Dolohov turned, a look of shock and disbelief on his face as the jet of green light rushed towards him. He had no time to react as the spell passed effortlessly through the shield and hit him square in the chest. There was a flash of bright green for a split-second before Dolohov slowly fell back, eyes still wide open. Hermione had frozen again when she heard Harry, but when Dolohov hit the ground right in front of her, she gasped and quickly backed away.

Harry was shaking uncontrollably, incapable of taking his eyes off Dolohov. He fell to his knees, unable to believe what he had just done, though it was lying on the ground right in front of him. He looked down at his wand, but immediately threw it aside, disgusted with it and with himself. And then he waited.

He waited for that unmistakable feeling that was sure to come. After spending so much time researching Horcruxes, he knew he would soon be feeling that unbearable pain in his chest that was said to come after killing someone. The feeling of his soul tearing apart.

He waited for several minutes, but it never came. He couldn't understand why. For the first time it's experienced, it should be the most defined and distinct.

And then he remembered something from last year. Part of the conversation he seen between Slughorn and Riddle, when Slughorn was explaining how soul was split. He heard the Potions Professor's words floating through his head. "_By an act of evil — the supreme act of evil. By committing murder_." Harry hadn't committed murder. What he had done, it was to defend someone, and it was a last resort. It certainly wasn't done in cold blood.

Harry felt a slight bit of relief, but it did little comfort him. The fact remained that he had taken the life of another, and there was little to console him in regards to that. He was still shaking slightly, and still felt repulsed at the sensation casting _that_ spell caused. It was enough to make him fall forward on his hands and vomit for several minutes.

He also sensed that Hermione still hadn't moved from her spot. After several moments of trying to find his voice, he croaked, "Hermione… go… go back to the castle." He didn't bother to look up, but knew she had left. Harry sat there for a while, hoping the heat from the nearby fires would help with the chill deep within his chest.

As he was still looking at the ground, Harry didn't notice the dark clouds billowing high in the sky, quickly gathering together directly overhead. They mirrored what was going on inside his mind, the darkness appearing instantly, blocking out all of the light. The only warning of their intentions was a sharp crack of thunder right before it started pouring.

Harry almost expected the rain before it happened, and even wondered if his own emotions had caused it. He heard dozens of hisses as the thick droplets of water landed on the burning wood right next to him. He figured all the fires and smoke had brought on the downpour, though it didn't really matter to him. As the rain increased, Harry leaned back and looked up at the sky.

The cold water soothed his aching face, but that meant little to him. He watched as it rained down, glad that the nights events were over, hoping they would quickly become a long-forgotten memory.

.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.

A/N- This chapter came a lot easier than most. I didn't get stuck nearly as many times as I usually do. So, I hope you liked it. I was quite tempted to put in something like this:

Dolohov – "Now I'm going to kill you."

Harry – "How appropriate. You fight like a cow."

Haha…good times… Anyway, review if you want. And feel free to ask any questions or point out any mistakes. I hate making mistakes.


	10. Picking Up The Pieces

**Chapter 10**

**Picking Up The Pieces**

It was still raining by the time Harry reached the entrance of Hogwarts. The long walk from the village up to the castle had gotten him thoroughly soaked, though he didn't pay much attention to it. His mind was filled with so many other thoughts swirling around that he was quite startled to look up and see the large, oak doors right in front of him.

Harry didn't know how long he had been on the ground, thinking, before he started hearing the sounds of people Apparating into the village all around him. He knew it was the Ministry, coming to clean up the damage. He didn't want to be around when they started and quickly decided to leave.

Before going, he had had to repair his leg and then fix his broken nose and busted lip. His face had felt much better, but his leg was still aching. He had healed it fine, but it would take some time for the stiffness to subside. He figured it must have something to do with the unknown curse he had been hit with. Each step on the long path back to Hogwarts had been painful and he ended up limping most of the way. It had made his trip quite interesting when Harry tried navigating up the muddy trail. Thankfully, he had managed not to slip and fall.

Now at the front doors, he opened them and stepped into the Entrance Hall and out of the rain. He immediately waved his wand over his clothes, drying them and warming himself up. He took a second to catch his breath and then strode across the Entrance Hall and pushed open the doors to the Great Hall.

The scene he revealed looked like something out of a Muggle history book on World War I. Harry remembered seeing pictures of a makeshift hospital set up in an abandoned church, and what was before him looked eerily similar. The Great Hall was full of injured people: on the benches, on the floor, even on the tables. Harry was surprised they weren't stacked on top of each other. Between them were a handful of witches and wizards running about, trying to attend to as many injuries as possible.

As soon as Harry opened the door, and people realised who had just entered, every single head turned to him. He did his best to ignore them and started limping toward the staff table. Most of them followed his progress, and Harry heard a buzz of whispers and gasps, which he ignored as well.

It seemed most of the injured people were residents of Hogsmeade. It made sense for them to have come here. St. Mungo's was too far away, and it likely wouldn't hold so many patients. Harry noticed that the rest present were students, and a lot of them looked to be pretty badly hurt. He felt anger begin to rise up as he wondered who had led them down to the village. Even those that had been in the D.A. weren't prepared to fight Death Eater's, and it showed.

As Harry walked along, he saw Ron among the injured, sitting up on one of the tables clutching his leg. Ginny, Neville, and Luna were standing around him and trying to calm him down, but Ron was practically hysterical. He was screaming and moaning from his injury, which, from Harry's view, didn't look bad at all. It was probably a broken bone, and Harry saw it was bleeding slightly, but wasn't too serious.

Upon seeing him, Ginny and Neville made to rush over to him, but Harry stopped them. He held his palm towards them and then nodded to the group at the staff table, indicating for them to stay while he talked to McGonagall and the others. They looked disappointed and went back to trying to console Ron.

Not far from them, Harry saw Hermione, her hair slightly damp from the rain. She was wrapping a bandage around her head while talking to someone from the Ministry. Harry froze when he saw the person next to her; he didn't know what they were talking about, but he didn't want anyone else to know what had happened with Dolohov. Especially not someone from the Ministry. Despite his intentions, he had still cast an Unforgivable on someone, which would earn him a life sentence in Azkaban.

He managed to catch Hermione's eye and shook his head quickly. He wanted to make sure she didn't say anything. Even though she was still hurting from what he had done back in the summer, Harry hoped she wouldn't reveal anything that would get him in trouble. Hermione's eyes flicked over to the Ministry official and then back to Harry, understanding what she meant. Her face remained expressionless but she nodded her head a fraction of an inch, telling him she would keep his secret.

Harry mentally sighed in relief and continued over to the staff. While he was ashamed and appalled at what he had done earlier, in the back of his mind, Harry couldn't help but hope that he might be able to start patching things up with Hermione.

He eventually reached McGonagall, who was talking with Flitwick, Kingsley, and Tonks. The four of them looked rather disheveled from the battle, each showing cuts and scrapes or burns on their robes.

"Wotcher, Harry," Tonks said in her regular greeting, though it was much more subdued than normal. Her electric blue hair, which was longer than usual, was tied up with a hair band. She had also changed her eyes to match, scaring Harry at first. She noticed his reaction and grinned, adjusting them to a pale blue.

The four of them were talking about the severity of the attack, so Harry jumped into the conversation. "The Ministry was arriving just as I left. Department of Magical Law Enforcement, I guess. The rain put out most of the fires, and they took care of the rest."

"That's good," McGonagall said. "Do you know the extent of the damage?"

"Not really," said Harry, shaking his head. "The fires reached High Street by the time I had finished with Dolohov so it could have been that whole half of the village. I had ran into Hermione earlier and told her to get help and start putting them out. Don't know if she was able to though."

"So it's less than half… all things considered, it could have been much worse," McGonagall thought out loud. She then looked at Harry and asked, "Dolohov, did you say? That's who you were fighting?"

Harry nodded, mentally kicking himself for letting it slip. Flitwick gasped at this, and Tonks looked on at him, quite awed.

"Wow, Harry… you beat Dolohov?" she asked in admiration. "He's said to be one of You-Know-Who's best. I'm assuming you _did_ beat him. I mean, you wouldn't be here otherwise right?"

Harry took a deep breath and said, "He's… dead."

All for of them looked stunned and Kingsley asked, "You… you killed him?"

Harry averted their eyes and quickly made up a lie. "No, not me. One of his own. Apparated behind me and took a shot. I dodged it, but Dolohov was right in its path."

Harry looked up and saw them all visibly relax at this information, though McGonagall held her eyes on him for several more moments. Harry didn't glance over at her, not wanting to run the risk of revealing that he was lying.

Thankfully, Tonks broke the silence. "But still, Harry, you were gone for a while… you must have been too much for him," she said, nudging him playfully in the side.

Harry managed a weak smile and said, "I held my own."

"Yeah, but he seems to have gotten the better of you a few times," Kingsley said. Harry looked at him quizzically and he explained, "I saw you limping on your way over here. And you've got a pretty good black eye forming there."

Flitwick conjured a mirror in front of Harry and he looked in surprise at a dark ring of blue and black had already formed around one of his eyes. "Oh… yeah, that," he said, "Dolohov Bludgeoned me when my guard was down. You should have seen me _before_ I fixed myself up."

"You should hang on to that, Harry," Tonks told him, motioning to his eye. "The girls will be all over you. Well, more than they already are," she added with a wink.

Harry felt his face warm and a blush creeping up, and was saved by McGonagall. "Mr. Potter's heroism aside," she said, trying to get them back on track. "We're still missing some of our people."

"Sturgis should be here soon," Harry told her. She looked over at him with a raised eyebrow. "I ran into him right before I found you. I helped him out as best I could, but he was too weak to come along. So I pointed the Ministry in his direction before I left."

"Well, that's fortunate," McGonagall said, clearly relieved. "I'm sure he'll have some words for Moody when he returns," she said with a trace of humor.

"He certainly didn't make it very far," Harry replied with a faint smile. He then turned to Kingsley and asked, "When did the Aurors turn up? I didn't see any when I was there."

Kingsley sighed and said, "We arrived before the Order, shortly after the attack started. Problem was, the cowards scattered and spread themselves out over the entire village. We had to split up and chase them down." He shook his head gravely and added, "Half of us have yet to check in."

"Don't worry Kingsley," Tonks told him, patting his broad shoulder, "they can take care of themselves. They put us through all that training for a reason. Chances are they're still out there, helping the rest of the Department."

They all stood there in silence for a moment. Harry didn't know if Kingsley had led the group of Aurors, but if he had, then he would be understandably upset if any of his colleagues were killed or captured. Their silence was short-lived though, their attention being drawn away by Ron's painful screams sounding over the rest of the noise in the Great Hall.

"Gah! Don't press so hard!" he shouted at Neville, who looked to be trying to help. Neville quickly backed away and Ron clutched his leg and shouting, "Is anyone going to bother helping me!?"

"Mr. Weasley, will you be quiet!" Harry heard Madam Pomfrey shout harshly from across the room. She was helping someone else and seemed fed up with Ron's complaining. "I guarantee you won't die in the next thirty minutes, so just be patient."

Harry rolled his eyes at this. He dropped his hand to his side and discreetly waved it in Ron's direction. The bone immediately mended and all the surrounding cuts healed, much to Ron's surprise. He jumped slightly in shock when he felt his leg back to normal and Ginny quickly looked it over, asking him how it had happened.

Ron's hands were still on his leg and Harry could hear him answer over the din of the rest of the room, "I… I guess I did it. I don't know… accidental magic or something."

Ginny and Neville looked awed and Harry smirked at this. McGonagall, however, eyed Harry curiously for a moment, and Harry quickly looked away from her. The rest of them were continuing their conversation about the attack. Harry had another question to ask, though he didn't really want to know the answer.

He was saved from asking it when the doors to the Great Hall opened and another Auror entered. He strode purposefully toward the staff table and immediately started talking when he reached Kingsley.

"I hope you have some good news for me," Kingsley told him.

"The rest of the department is still cleaning up, but I have the final counts," the new Auror said.

"How many of ours?" asked Kingsley.

The new arrival sighed and said, "We lost two Aurors. Wilcox and Carson." Kingsley bowed his head at this information. The Auror went on, "Two Death Eaters were killed, and we managed to capture seven."

"Where were they taken, Darren?" McGonagall asked

The one called Darren answered, "They're being detained at the Ministry for questioning."

Harry decided to speak up. "How many villagers were killed?"

The Auror Darren looked over at him, and did a double take when he realised who Harry was. "Oh—uh, only thirty-six. We were quite lucky."

"That few?" Tonks asked. "How is that possible? There are far too many people in Hogsmeade for so many to have survived."

"I expect it's because of the state of things," McGonagall explained. "Everyone is much more alert. At the first sign of trouble, most of them probably Apparated away to someplace safe."

"It's still too many," Harry muttered darkly.

"Well, when they get back, they'll be in for a shock," Darren said. "Almost half the village is ashes. It'll take a while to rebuild. We're being overworked as it is."

"I need to get back to London," Kingsley finally said. "Robards will be expecting me, and I have some letters to write. Minerva, contact me if anything new comes up."

McGonagall nodded her head and Kingsley departed with the other Auror in tow. Harry watched them leave, and also saw Ginny and Neville walking over to him. They had obviously been waiting impatiently to come talk to him, and saw Kingsley's departure as an opportunity to make their move.

Ginny arrived first, jumping into him and wrapping her arms around his neck. Harry grabbed her waist before she could fall and hugged her tightly. He hadn't realised how much he had missed her and how relieved he was to see her all right.

"I was so worried when they revived me and told me you were still out there," Ginny said into his shoulder. "I'm so glad you're back."

Harry rubbed her back soothingly and whispered, "It's all right Ginny, I'm fine now."

She pulled back and looked up at him. "Are you going to stay at Hogwarts now?" she asked, eyes wide with hope.

"Maybe," Harry said noncommittally. "I'll have to figure some things out first, but I might." He honestly hadn't thought about coming back to Hogwarts, but it might be a good idea. Neville had reached him patted him on the back in a brotherly fashion.

"That reminds me," Harry said, letting go of Ginny and turning to McGonagall. "Were you the ones that allowed the students to enter the village tonight?"

"Hey!" Ginny said in protest to Harry's question, and McGonagall shook her head. "No, I believe we have the Head Boy and Girl to _thank_ for that," she said, looking out over the Great Hall.

"We can take care of ourselves, you know," Ginny said, leveling an icy glare at Harry. Harry didn't really want to make Ginny mad, as he had just seen her for the first time since the summer. But he was still furious that so many of his friends had left the school and almost gotten themselves killed.

"Cleary you can't," Harry said simply, causing Ginny to huff in indignation. She could argue all she liked, but she was brought down tonight just as easily as the others.

"This is our war too," she said angrily. "If we're not supposed to fight, then what was the point of the D.A.?"

Harry turned to face her. "We formed the D.A. to teach people how to defend themselves, should the battle come to them," he explained. "Not train them to rush headlong into an unknown situation and attack Death Eaters, or possibly Voldemort."

"We've fought Death Eaters before," Ginny replied quickly. "And we didn't do too badly."

"At the Ministry? That was different," said Harry.

"How?"

Harry hoped she would have understood more easily. He sighed and explained, "Because of the Prophecy. They had to hold back because they couldn't risk destroying it. If it hadn't been for that, I doubt we would have survived." He then added, "And if I remember correctly, Neville was the only one still standing at the end."

Ginny didn't look anywhere near conceding. "You know what," she raised her voice and jabbed a finger in his chest, "I knew this was going to happen. Going off on your own, you were gonna push everyone else out of your life and rely totally on your self. You've forgotten that we're your friends and we're going to help you no matter what you think." With an aggravated growl, she turned and stormed back to Ron and Luna. Harry watched her go, wondering how long it would take to smooth things out with her.

"I'd hate to be you right now, Harry," Neville said from behind him.

"Just like Molly, that one is," he heard Flitwick mutter.

"She's worse," Harry replied. He turned back and smiled ruefully, saying, "I need to learn to just roll over when she starts getting worked up."

"Well Potter, it seems like you have your work cut out for you," McGonagall said, a ghost of a smile on her face.

Harry sighed and shook his head. "Not now. What about Hogsmeade? They'll be able to rebuild it, right?"

"Yes, but, like you heard Darren say, the Ministry is overworked as it is. There's no telling how long it will take," answered McGonagall.

Another question came to Harry's mind, but Neville voiced it first. "What about all these people? Where will they go?"

McGonagall looked unsure, but Harry asked, "There's plenty of room here isn't there?"

She seemed to consider his words for a few moments. "Yes, I expect that won't be a problem. Those who don't have friends or family to stay with, or can't afford to rent a room elsewhere, are welcome to stay here," she said. "We should be able to make accommodations for them."

Their conversation was interrupted again by the doors to the Great Hall swinging open. This time, a rather disheveled figure Harry recognised vaguely dashed towards them. He wasn't from the Ministry, but judging by the urgency in his strides, Harry assumed he was here because of what had taken place tonight.

He reached the staff table and nearly collapsed from exhaustion, but McGonagall grabbed him firmly by the shoulders. "Dedalus, what is it? What has happened?"

"Headmistress…" he gasped, "You-Know-Who…he attacked…"

"If your talking about Hogsmeade, we're well aware," Tonks said from behind Harry.

Dedalus began to catch his breath and explained, "No, more attacks… all over the country. Half a dozen of them. All Muggleborns or open supporters of Dumbledore."

All of them were stunned by this. "They must have used the attack on Hogsmeade to keep us occupied," McGonagall said, thinking furiously. "Do you know who was attacked or if there were any survivors?" Dedalus shook his head. "Very well. Filius, will you please go to the Ministry in my place and find out as much as you can? My priority is tending to the students and villagers."

"Of course, Headmistress," the tiny wizards squeaked and quickly left.

Harry was panicking at the new information. What if the Burrow had been attacked? Everyone knew the Weasleys were loyal to Dumbledore, almost fanatically so. And, even though they were Purebloods, they weren't prejudice towards Muggleborns or Muggles. 'Blood traitors', as they were called. In fact, Arthur Weasley's fondness of Muggles was legendary.

Even if the Burrow was safe, there were still more that died. More people that supported their cause. Tonks, as if sensing his distress, placed her hands on his shoulders, giving him a reassuring squeeze. "I'm sure the Weasley's are fine, Harry," she whispered to him. "And besides… I don't think You-Know-Who has enough men to bring down Molly when she's angry."

Harry relaxed slightly at this. Perhaps Tonks wasn't as shallow as she acted. He muttered a thanks to her while he listened to the rest of Dedalus' report.

"We expect the attack here was to draw the Ministry far enough away," the short wizard said, still breathing heavily.

"Undoubtedly," McGonagall concurred. "What else can you tell us?"

"Not much more, Headmistress," Dedalus said, shaking his head. "All I know is they all showed up not long after the Aurors got here. Very well executed. You-Know-Who must have been planning this for a while."

"WHAT!?"

Harry, who had been momentarily pacified by Tonks, immediately tensed up. Tonks jumped back when he had shouted, sensing the anger in more than just his voice.

"I-I-I said that i-it was well planned," Dedalus stammered. He was backing away from Harry like Tonks had, not understanding his reason for such an outburst.

Harry was visibly seething. Anger was radiating from him, causing several near him to cower. They all expected him to shout again, and were surprised when he spoke in a forcedly calm tone. "Oh, I am going to KILL him," he said through gritted teeth. Dedalus jumped at the emphasis he put on the word 'kill'.

Before anyone could question him on why he was so angry, or who he was going to kill, Harry turned and headed for the door. _"…must have been planning it for a while…"_ Those words rang through his head over and over again. If it had been planned out, then surely Snape knew about it. And he had said nothing.

_I just saw him today,_ Harry thought, _and the bastard said __**nothing**_. Since learning Occlumency, Harry didn't often let his emotions get away from him. This was an exception. He was absolutely livid about his new 'ally'. More people had died because of him. Sure, he couldn't save everyone, but these attacks could have been prevented.

Harry had reached the doors to the Great Hall, with ever intention of finding Snape and ripping him limb from limb, when someone finally broke the silence.

"Mr. Potter?" McGonagall called out. Harry stopped and looked at her, one hand still on the open door. "Perhaps you could save your vendetta for later and give us a hand here?" she asked, waving a hand toward all the injured people through out the room.

Harry glanced at all of them, looking at him with fearful expressions, unsure of what he might do next. As much as he wanted to 'talk' with Snape, these people were more important. _I guess he's off the hook for now_, Harry thought. He slammed the door closed in frustration, causing half the room to jump or back away from him.

He sighed and forced himself to relax. Using his Occlumency training, he forced all his emotions down, calming himself. After a few seconds, Harry opened his eyes. Everyone was still watching him, but they looked visibly relieved that he had composed himself. Harry ignored them and made his way over to the closest person that needed attention.

The one nearest him was a small girl, cradling her arm in one hand. Harry guessed she was around five. She had soot on her face and clothes, which showed several burn marks.

Harry kneeled down in front of her and tried to be as comforting as possible. "Hi, I'm Harry," he told her, and her small eyes lit up.

"I know!" she squealed in delight. "I've read all about you. And I've always wanted to meet you. A bunch of the grownups say you're a bad person, but they're wrong. You're a hero," she said rapidly.

"Thanks," Harry chuckled. "It's nice to have a fan. What's you're name?"

"Lissa," she told him, eyes shining brightly at the fact that Harry was talking to her.

"Ok Lissa, where does it hurt?"

"It's my arm," she told him, moving her hand away and showing Harry. There was an obvious lump on forearm. The bone was clearly broken, but it didn't look too serious.

"I'm afraid your arm is broken," Harry told her as he looked it over. "But don't worry, it's nothing I can't handle. There is a problem though."

Her eyes widened slightly, and Harry explained, "I going to have to pull the bone back in place before I can fix it. It's going to hurt, but it's the only way. Can you be brave for me?"

Lissa's eyes were still wide with fear, but she nodded slightly. Harry tried to think of a way comfort her so she wouldn't be as scared. "I'll try to make it as quick as possible. Tell you what, I want you to grab on to my hair, and if I hurt you too much, I want you to just pull as hard as you can."

She seemed to relax a little and Harry started. He grabbed her arm and she grabbed a handful of his messy hair. Going slowly, he gently pulled on her arm, ignoring her whimpers and the pain on his head. It took half a minute before he felt the bone slide back into place.

"All done," Harry said as he let go. She was smiling now and let go of his hair. Her eyes were sparkling slightly but kept from crying. "I wish I hadn't made that deal with you," Harry said, rubbing his head. "I didn't know you were so strong."

Lissa smiled at him and Harry tapped his wand to her arm, thinking, "_Episkey_." A white glow surrounded the area for a few seconds before fading. Lissa stretched her arm out and moved it around.

"It's good as new!" she said brightly, grinning up at Harry. "You're the best, Harry!"

"Don't mention it. Now, let's just—" Harry said and waved his wand again, cleaning all the soot off her. "There. You're much prettier without all that dirt on you."

She giggled and blushed at Harry's comment. Harry couldn't help but smile at her innocence. "So where are your parents?" he asked.

She shook her head and said, "I don't know. I lost them a long time ago."

"Don't worry, I'm sure we'll find them," Harry said, hoping he could believe his own words. He didn't want to think of what would happen if her parents were among those killed. "I need to help more of these people, but why don't you come along with me. We're bound to come across them if we look around. They're probably worried sick that they can't find you."

Harry moved on to help the next person, with Lissa right behind him. She seemed oblivious to what her parents' absence could mean. Harry was glad she didn't understand the situation and wasn't panicking, but also wary that her parents might not show up. He started working his way around the Great Hall, like Madam Pomfrey and the others, helping as many people as he could, as best he could.

Fortunately, they eventually stumbled upon Lissa's parents. They were both sporting serious injuries and Madam Pomfrey wouldn't let them up. The strict Healer was adamant about checking and rechecking them, despite their protests over their missing daughter. When Lissa spotted her parents and rushed over, Harry followed, wanting to make sure they were going to be alright. Lissa's mother thanked him profusely for taking care of her daughter, while her father, who was still dizzy from a loss of blood, managed a small wave. It was a heartwarming scene that Harry wished he could watch, never having known his own parents, but he still had more work to do.

Harry set off to help the rest, his neck still smarting from the force of the hug Lissa had given him, but happy to have something to take his mind off what had happened back in the village. The next person Harry came to was another girl, this one only slightly younger than him. Her long, dirty-blonde hair was matted with dirt and blood and her Hogwarts robes were dirty and burned, but she was smiling nonetheless.

"Hello, Harry Potter," she said as he approached. Even though he was famous, both at Hogwarts and in the rest of the wizarding world, it was still unnerving when someone he had never talked to or had never seen before greeted him in such a way.

As it so happened, Harry _had_ seen this girl around school a few times in the past, but she been one of those students that just blended in with the rest of the crowd. "I'm afraid I don't know your name," Harry said apologetically.

"Oh, don't worry about it," she said, flashing him a brilliant smile, "I don't think I'm quite as well-known as you." Harry grinned at her remark, and she introduced herself. "Chelsea Fletcher. Fifth year," she said, stretching out her hand to shake his.

Harry took it politely, but stopped grinning the next second. He turned her hand over and noticed the numerous scratches etched all over it, some of which were still bleeding. "Oh, that…" she said, "Yeah, that's why I'm here. Madam Pomfrey won't let me leave until someone checks me out. It's practically nothing…"

Harry pushed up her sleeve to reveal more long cuts and large burns all over her arm. "And these?" he asked, looking up at her.

"Well…" she said, grinning ruefully, "I guess I forgot about those. I'm sure they'll heal fine on their own."

"You know, I don't know nearly as much about Healing as Madam Pomfrey," Harry told her, "but if she won't let you go, there's probably a good reason. Is there anything else?"

She sighed and admitted, "Yeah, my other arm too." Harry looked into her light brown eyes and grazed her thoughts to make sure she wasn't lying. She then rolled up her sleeves all the way and let Harry patch her up.

"So how did you end up in Hogsmeade tonight?" Harry asked, tracing his wand over one of the many cuts on his patient's arm.

"Some of my housemates and I were on our way back from the library when we heard the commotion," Chelsea told him as she looked around the room, surprisingly cheerful despite her situation. "We saw the staff leave and head down to the village so we followed after them. We managed to bring down a Death Eater between the three of us," she said proudly.

"Well, I don't want to lecture you, but that wasn't very safe," Harry told her as he moved on to one of the larger patches of burned skin.

"Yeah, but I didn't want them to come up to the school and harm my friends," she defended herself.

Harry sighed. "I know what you mean," he muttered. "And how did you pick these up?" he asked, indicating to her arms.

She shifted in her seat and answered, "These came later. I ran into Hermione Granger and some others and went with her to help put out the fires. Some of the houses collapsed near us and we got sprayed with the embers."

"Well, you were lucky to leave with just some scrapes and burns," he told her.

"Unlike you," Chelsea said, smiling. "Apparently I can take better care of myself than you."

"What, this?" Harry asked, touching his black eye. "Hang on, let me get rid of it."

"No, leave it," Chelsea stopped him. "It's rather dashing. Makes you look dangerous."

_Curse you, Tonks,_ Harry thought. "I didn't think I needed something like that for people to know my life was dangerous," he muttered, causing Chelsea to laugh.

Harry went to work on her other arm and she took another look around the Great Hall. "Something wrong?" he asked, not looking up.

"It's just, I haven't seen my housemates since I got back. We got split up earlier."

"I'm sure they're fine," Harry said consolingly. "What house are you in?"

"Slytherin."

Harry wasn't expecting that. "And… and you were out fighting the Death Eaters?" he asked tentatively.

She rolled her eyes at him and shook her head. "Ugh… you Gryffindors are all the same. Just because the only Slytherins you've talked to are Death Eaters in the making, you think we're all evil."

"Well, you know Malfoy and his group. Can you blame me?" Harry asked, still in disbelief that this girl was a Slytherin.

"You need to be more open-minded," she told him, slightly put off at his biased opinion of her house. "You know, everyone doesn't show the exact traits of the founders. I'm ambitious, but my friends mean a lot to me. I wouldn't sacrifice them to save myself. I would have fit in well with the Hufflepuffs, but the Hat thought I would do best in Slytherin."

"I guess you're right. I'm sorry," he apologised, remembering that the Hat had tried putting _him_ in Slytherin. "It's just, Malfoy was one of the first wizards I met and the first Slytherin I knew. I guess he gave me a bad impression of the house. And Voldemort doesn't really help the matter either."

She flinched at Voldemort's name, but nodded in understanding. "Perhaps you need to meet more of us," she said, smiling at him again.

"Yeah, I think I should," Harry agreed. "I guess, from the way Malfoy acted, I figured the lot of you hated me. And my constantly beating you guys in Quidditch probably didn't help," Harry added, making both of them laugh slightly.

Trying to keep the conversation going, Harry asked, "What do your parents do?"

"Well, my mum works at the Ministry, in the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes. She's an Obliviator. And Dad is an attorney in London."

"So he's a Muggle?" Harry asked before he could stop himself.

"Yeah… Mum was so happy when I got my Hogwarts letter. I hadn't shown any magic before then. Dad thinks magic is great, and desperately wishes he was a wizard," she explained.

"Must be nice," said Harry. "The Muggles I grew up with detested magic. They tried to 'stamp it out of me' for ten years."

"That's awful," she gasped. "I know some Muggles have trouble understanding magic or believing that it exists… but I've never heard something like that."

"Well, I turned out all right in the end."

They both fell silent for a while as Harry continued to work. He had lost count of how many scrapes he had healed. He almost felt glad that he ended up relatively unscathed after the night's events.

Chelsea finally spoke up when Harry was almost finished. "So Harry, where have you been hiding all this time?"

"Someplace safe," Harry answered vaguely.

"A lot of people here have been saying you're afraid of You-Know-Who… calling you a coward," she said, and added, "But I don't believe them."

"Thanks," Harry said, looking up at her. "I've had a lot of important work to do and classes would have taken up too much time. Though… since I'm here, I may stick around for a while. I certainly have missed this place."

"Well, I hope you do decide to stay," she told him. "Without you and your friends stirring up your usual amount of trouble, it's been rather dull around here."

She laughed at his reaction, and Harry merely shook his head at her as he vanished the last cut on her arm. "There. All done… finally."

She looked up and down both her arms before rolling down her sleeves, and Harry said, "It's been nice talking to you, but I should get started on the others."

"Thank you for your help, Harry Potter," she said politely. "I hope to see you around."

"Likewise," Harry said as she got up and headed back to the dungeons.

Harry went on to the next person, still not believing she was a Slytherin. He was relieved to see that the group that needed attention was growing smaller and smaller.

.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.

It was nearly an hour later before Harry finally stopped. He was physically and mentally exhausted and wanted nothing more than to crawl into his bed at Number 12 and fall asleep. Unfortunately, he still had several things to do.

The Great Hall still had a number of people in it. McGonagall and Flitwick were going around, talking to the villagers and making accommodations for them to stay at Hogwarts temporarily. Everyone from the Ministry and all the students had cleared out already. Only two students had remained, waiting for him: Neville and Ginny.

Harry had told Neville to get Ginny and wait for him as he had wanted to talk to them both. Now that he was finished, he walked over to them and led them out into the Entrance Hall. He figured he should say something to Ginny first.

"Look, Ginny, I'm sorry," he told her before they could say anything. "I know you can take care of yourself, and I know this is your fight too. I'm sorry if I seem overprotective… you get enough of that from your brothers. It's just… too many people have died trying to protect me. And yet people continue stand in front of me. I just don't want to lose you as well."

Ginny's face softened at this and she ran up and hugged him. "Oh Harry," she whispered into his ear, "no matter what you say, I'm always going to stand with you. Not in front of you, but beside you. Because _I_ don't want to lose _you_."

"Me too, Harry," Neville added. "No matter what."

"I guess I can't stop you then," Harry said once Ginny let go of him. _Merlin knows I'm gonna try though_. "Well, now that that's sorted out…" Harry walked out the doors of the castle and took a seat on the steps leading down to the grounds. Neville and Ginny were right behind him and followed suit. Harry leaned back and closed his eyes, enjoying the cool breeze that had picked up and thankful it had stopped raining.

"So what's been going on around here?" he asked, not looking up.

"Not much," he heard Neville answer. "It's actually been really quiet without you here."

"We didn't get the D.A. back together like you had suggested," Ginny added. "I told Hermione and Ron about it but they didn't want to. We were all still kinda mad that no one had showed up to help last June."

"That's understandable," Harry told her. "I think you should give it another try though. It's needed now more than ever. By the way, how are the happy couple?" he asked tonelessly.

"Who, Ron and Hermione? The broke up, didn't you know?" Neville told him.

This piece of information got Harry to sit up. "How would I have known? I've been cut off from everyone," he said. "When did it happen? Do you know why?"

"Oh, it was only a week or so ago," Ginny told him. "It should have happened sooner," she muttered in an afterthought.

"Yeah, they fought _a lot_," Neville said.

"How is that any different than normal?" asked Harry.

"They argued before, but not like this," Ginny explained. "It was _all_ the time. Seriously, they were constantly at each other's throats. In the end, they realised they weren't happy. They figured out they weren't right for each other."

"So they went back to being friends," Neville added.

"Just like that?" Harry asked.

"Pretty much. They don't bring up the relationship, and they seem to get on fine now," Neville said.

Harry didn't really know what to make of this. He paused for several moments, and then asked softly, "So do they still hate me?"

Ginny turned and looked at him. "Harry, they don't hate you," she said soothingly. "Hermione is upset, and it'll take some time, but she'll get through it. And Ron… he was never really mad in the first place."

Harry arched his eyebrow at her, so Ginny continued, "He told me the next day. He kind of overreacted. He was angry that Hermione was so upset and took it out on you. But he didn't mean what he said. You know how temperamental he can be."

That was definitely something Harry would have liked to know. All this time he thought he had lost his two best friends. "How come you didn't tell me?"

"Cause, Harry, that's something he needs to talk to you about himself. He's wanted to, but you're not easy to find," Ginny said.

Harry leaned back again and closed his eyes while Ginny said, "Go find him soon and talk to him about it." Harry nodded in response and then rested his head on the cool stone of one of the steps.

"I ran into her tonight," Harry told them. "Out there. She didn't say anything to me. Didn't look happy to see me either."

Ginny sighed next to him. "Just give her time. She'll work it out."

This eased Harry slightly. It fell silent between the three of them for a while. Harry listened to the soft wind blowing by and the faint splashes from the lake off in the distance.

Neville was the one that eventually broke the silence. "So Harry, you think you'll stay here at Hogwarts now? Or did you still have too much work to do?"

Harry thought for a second. "I don't know. I have made a lot of progress. But I've still got a lot to do. I'll have to think about it." In the back of his mind, he believed he already had the decision made up. He needed to talk to someone else first, though.

Sharp clicks on the stone indicated that someone was approaching. Harry sensed Neville and Ginny turn around as the footsteps stopped right above Harry's head.

A person clearing their throat prompted him to open his eyes and he saw McGonagall standing over him, upside-down from his perspective.

"Potter, I was wondering if I could speak with you," she said.

"Of course, Headmistress," Harry replied and stood up. He brushed of his jacket and turned to his friends. "I'll come find you when I'm done."

They waved to him as he followed McGonagall up to her office. When they reached the gargoyle, Harry noted that the password had not changed. He stepped onto the stairs behind his old professor and the rode them up to the top.

When they entered the office, Harry's eyes immediately flicked up to Dumbledore's portrait above the desk. He was disappointed to see that the former Headmaster was absent from his frame. McGonagall made her way around the desk and said, "Please, have a seat," while gesturing to the chairs in front. Harry sat down, interested in what she had to say.

"First of all," she began after seating herself, "I would like to thank you for your help tonight. No doubt your timely arrival is what has us all in as good of shape as we are in."

"Don't mention it," Harry said. "How's Remus?"

"He's doing much better," McGonagall answered. "His injuries were the most serious, but he is recovering well. He is extraordinarily resilient."

She went on, "I would also like to thank you for your help in the Great Hall tonight. As you saw, we have very few on hand that are sufficient at Healing. Without your assistance, we would likely still be down there."

"It was the least I could do."

"By the way, that was quite an impressive bit of wandless magic you performed on Mr. Weasley," she told him, smiling lightly.

"Thanks," Harry said, smiling as well. "That's pretty much all I can do though. Once I learned the basics, the first thing I worked on was Healing. I didn't want to get stuck and die from an injury just because I didn't have a wand."

"Still, for a seventeen-year-old, that is quite a remarkable feat," she went on. "But I digress… the main reason I wished to speak with you was that I was hoping you would consider returning to Hogwarts."

"And why is that?"

"Your protection, for one. I also wish to see you take your N.E.W.T.'s and I don't believe you can adequately prepare for all of them on your own," McGonagall said.

Harry leaned back in his chair and thought for a moment. "After what happened earlier, I've actually been considering coming back," he said. "Seems I've pretty much exhausted the Black library, and still have research to do."

Harry paused again to think, while McGonagall waited patiently. "I would need some special accommodations though," Harry said after a few minutes.

"I'm sure we can make arrangements for you. What did you have in mind?"

"Well, I'd need my own room, outside of Gryffindor tower." When McGonagall looked at him questioningly, he explained, "See, the, uhhh, 'project' that I'm working on, I'll have a lot of dangerous information lying around. I wouldn't want anyone stumbling upon it."

McGonagall merely nodded her head in understanding. "If it's important enough to keep from me, then I would assume it's not something the students should see," she told him with a trace of humor. "That shouldn't be a problem. In fact, we have a private room not in use that I believe would suit your needs. It's down on the sixth floor, guarded by the statue of Circe."

"All right. I'll also need access to the Restricted Section in the library," Harry went on.

"Again, not a problem. I trust you not to abuse any of the information in there."

"I'm also going to have to leave the castle from time to time, and I may have to leave or be in the library after hours," Harry said, hoping she would allow this.

McGonagall considered it for a minute, but agreed. "Very well. I shall inform the staff and Head Boy and Girl of your 'nighttime wanderings'."

"I think that's all for now."

"Is there any way I could persuade you to rejoin the Quidditch team?" she asked, a hopeful look in her eyes.

Harry smiled but shook his head. "Sorry… as much as I'd love to, it would take up too much of my time. And it wouldn't be fair to the rest of the team that's already been playing together."

"Oh well. If that was all," she said, standing up, "shall we go down and check on your room?"

.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.

It was much later that night that Harry was walking down the first floor corridor, thankful that he had permission to be out this late. Though he had been in the halls of Hogwarts in the dead of night before, he never really had a chance to enjoy it. He stepped in and out of the patches of soft moonlight that filtered in through gaps in the clouds, and then through the many windows that lined the corridor.

Harry yawned widely as he crossed the Entrance Hall to the other side of the castle. Though he was quite tired, and had been quite eager to fall asleep, he was unable. As soon as he closed his eyes, the night's events started replaying in his mind. It was as if he was watching it on television, broadcasted to the insides of his eyelids.

No matter what he did, he couldn't escape the vivid images from coming. Hermione petrified in fear… Dolohov bearing down on her, eyes alight with anticipation and malice… himself saying _those _words, casting _that_ spell.

In the end, he realised he likely wouldn't be getting any sleep for a while. He decided to roam around the halls of Hogwarts, hoping to find some comfort in the only place that had ever felt like home to him. It had been three months since he was last inside the castle, and he hadn't realised how much he had missed it.

Things hadn't changed much, he noticed. Of course, as old as the building was, Harry figured things didn't change often. There were some added security measures in certain areas which Harry had to circumvent. He would have expected as much, but other than that, it was just like Harry had remembered it from last June.

Harry continued his walk, well aware that he was now being followed. He had a pretty good idea who it was too. After turning a corner, he quickly jumped behind a suit of armor and waited for his stalker to come by.

A few seconds later, a female figure in a dark, hooded cloak came around the corner and began looking around, moving somewhat less than stealthily. Harry stepped out from his hiding place right next to the figure and cleared his throat loudly.

The one in the cloak gasped and whipped around in surprise, stepping back and reaching for her wand, but tripping over her feet and falling to the ground. She landed hard on her rear with a soft, "Oof!"

"Wotcher, Tonks. You weren't trying to sneak up on me, were you?" Harry asked impishly.

"Ow, Harry," he heard a familiar female voice say from under the hood. "I think I broke my bum. How'd you know it was me?"

"Lucky guess," Harry said, grabbing her hand and pulling her up to her feet.

She pulled off her hood to reveal the same Tonks Harry had seen early in the Great Hall. Her vivid blue hair was let down and resting gently on her shoulders.

"I was planning on giving you a good scare, but you ruined it," she pouted, rubbing her backside.

"Sorry to ruin your fun," Harry told her wryly. "How come you're still here?"

"Oh, McGonagall," she answered with a dismissive wave. "She wanted some extra security for tonight. Not like they're coming back though," she added.

"I should hope not."

"Yeah… so naturally I volunteered," Tonks went on. "I sure do miss this place."

"I know what you mean," Harry told her.

"Maybe the Department will want an Auror stationed here for the rest of the year. Oh, that would be great!" she said, her eyes gleaming.

Harry merely grinned at her and shook his head. "What?" she said, "I'm just a kid at heart."

Harry laughed and started walking in the direction he had been previously. Tonks followed along beside him.

"It's really good to see you back to your old self again," Harry told her.

"Yeah, sorry I was such a bore last year," Tonks said.

"I take it Remus has come around finally?"

"Not quite, but he's getting there," Tonks said with a smirk. "He's rather stubborn when he wants to be. But I've made him take me on a few dates."

"Maybe he'll see more clearly once this is all over." Harry didn't need to explain what 'this' was referring to, and Tonks nodded her head.

"It's odd, though," she said. "Last time people were rushing to get married or have kids, 'cause they didn't know if they would make it."

"Well, he's been doing a lot of dangerous work for the Order. Maybe he just doesn't want you to get hurt if you get too attached and lose him," Harry conjectured.

Tonks merely sighed. They talked for almost an hour before Tonks decided she needed to go back to her normal patrolling. Harry walked with her back to the Entrance Hall so she could walk around the grounds.

"One more thing," Harry said before she could go. He withdrew a small, sealed envelope bearing her name on the front and handed it to her.

"What's this?" she asked, looking it over. She was about to break the seal, but Harry stopped her.

"Not yet. Only open it if Voldemort takes over the Ministry, or Hogwarts, and you have nowhere else to go. Trust me," he added at the look of skepticism on her face. "It's charmed so that only you can read it. Just don't lose it."

She still looked clueless, but said, "All right, Harry. If you say so. I'll see you around."

Harry watched her go and returned the wave she gave him as she opened the doors to exit the castle. He then made his way up to his new room. Dobby had been quick to ferry all his possessions from Grimmauld Place over to Hogwarts, which had saved Harry a lot of trouble. The house elf returned to work in the kitchens, but made it very clear for Harry to call on him should he ever need something.

By the time Harry reached the sixth floor, he was thoroughly worn out. He felt more exhausted than he could ever remember being. Fortunately, this time when he got in bed, he fell asleep as soon as he lied down. Now all he had to do was cope with his dreams.

.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.

A/N- So there's chapter 10. There was a lot of talking… hope it wasn't too boring. I appreciate the reviews I got, especially the ones from Random MAn and taure. Also, if anyone out there wants to do me a really, really big favor and maybe make a list of all the characters that aren't afraid to say 'voldemort'… that would really help me out. I just noticed Ginny started saying it at the end of HBP and I had to go back and change some of my earlier chapters. Anyway… I was glad that I could work Tonks into this chapter. She's one of my favorite characters… I just hope I won't have to kill her off…


	11. Veritas et Aequitas

Disclaimer- perhaps it's time for another one of these. I don't own Harry Potter. If I did, I would be JK Rowling, and I'm not. Furthermore, I don't think JK spends her free time writing fan fiction, which probably wouldn't be fan fiction anyway since she wrote the works it would be based upon.

**Chapter 11**

**Veritas et Aequitas**

It wasn't until Sunday that Harry finally came out of his room. He had been trying to cope with Friday night's events, and, thus, had stayed in for an entire day. It was fortunate that most of the school didn't know he had even been in Hogwarts. And the ones that had seen him in the Great Hall had no idea he had stayed. It certainly was nice to have some privacy.

Though, Ginny and Neville knew where Harry was. He had found them and shown them his new room after McGonagall had left that night. Therefore, they _did_ miss his absence and subsequently tried to talk to him. Not knowing the password, the statue of Circe that guarded his room wouldn't let them inside. Harry then had to ignore the constant calls on the two-way mirror and the fireplace, and even the owls they had sent from the other side of the castle.

The room itself was not much different from his back at Grimmauld Place. The passageway from the statue led into a large study area that connected to his bedroom and private bathroom. He had made immediate use of the study room, spreading out books he had been using over all the tables and set the Pensieve in one corner. He was glad that no one else would be able to enter and he wouldn't have to hide everything.

Eventually, though, he needed to get out of the room and outside the castle. Still wanting some peace, he decided to sit under a tree at the edge of the lake, now going over events from earlier that morning.

When Snape's owl had come the other night, Harry immediately tossed his letter into the fire. He hadn't cared what the man had to say at that moment, and it didn't matter anyway as Harry was still planning to pay him a visit. He made that visit Sunday morning.

Harry hadn't even allowed Snape to say anything before he began shouting at the man. He was absolutely livid that his informant had failed in _informing_ Harry of the upcoming attacks and costing more lives. Snape, on the other hand, merely waited for Harry's verbal tirade to finish before he explained, as calmly as possible.

"_Would you sit down and shut up, Potter? And use your head for once?" Snape hissed. "First of all, you should know that I was only aware of the attack on Hogsmeade. However, I would not have told you of the others, had I known."_

_Harry was about to demand why, but Snape answered his question before it could be asked. "Because, Potter, the second you knew, you would have undoubtedly gone and told everyone."_

"_Sorry, I guess I have this thing about letting people die needlessly," Harry said scathingly._

"_I though I told you to use your head," Snape said. "The Dark Lord now knows I'm in contact with you. If all of his attacks are foiled by the Ministry or the Order, he's going to know exactly how."_

"_So you can allow people to die in order for you to maintain your position?" Harry shot._

"_You can't save everyone, Potter. People are going to die. The sooner you get used to that, the easier it will be."_

"_Sorry, Snape," Harry replied coldly, "but that's one thing I'll never get used to."_

"_And that is why I didn't tell you," Snape said smoothly. "If I tell you of every attack, then you will attempt to foil them and surely get me killed. If I could trust you not to act on every one, then perhaps some of them could be stopped."_

"_What do you mean?"_

"_The Dark Lord knows that his plans will not work perfectly. He knows things will go wrong from time to time," Snape explained. "While he does not allow mistakes from his Death Eaters, he knows that outside forces will come into play. Using that, it's possible to prevent some of his attacks."_

_Harry pondered this for several minutes. Snape watched him, merely happy that Harry had calmed down and that he was no longer pinned up against the wall with a wand at his throat._

"_Fine," Harry finally said. "If you can inform me of certain attacks beforehand, I'll tell McGonagall and have her choose which ones can be stopped. I'm not about to decide who I think should live and who should die."_

"_Very well."_

_Harry then asked him about something Snape had mentioned a few minutes ago. "You said Voldemort knows you're helping me? So he's going along with it?"_

_Snape glared at the use of Voldemort's name, but nodded. "Yes, I told him about our 'arrangement'," he said. "He demanded I find out as much as I can, and he has withdrawn me from the more __**dangerous**__ missions."_

"_Good. What else can you tell me?" Harry asked._

"_What do you want to know?"_

"_Well," Harry thought, "why hasn't he been more active recently? I figured with Dumbledore gone, he wouldn't hesitate, but apart from the other night he hasn't really done anything."_

"_He has reason to be more cautious," Snape told him._

"_Like what? Dumbledore is the only one he was said to fear, and he's gone," Harry said. "What else would he be afraid of?"_

"_You."_

_Harry blinked at the other man, certain he had misheard. "Yeah, right," he scoffed. "__**Voldemort **__is afraid of __**me**__…"_

"_Of course he hasn't said it, but some of us can tell," Snape said, straight-faced._

_Harry, though, didn't buy it. "You're kidding right?" he asked, grinning and shaking his head. "You're mad." He didn't know what Snape was playing at, but it certainly wasn't constructive. The idea of Voldemort being afraid of anyone, let alone afraid of Harry, was ridiculous._

"_I assure you, Potter, I am not joking," said an increasingly agitated Snape._

_Harry continued to look at him in disbelief. "All right, perhaps you could explain. Why on earth would the 'greatest dark lord in history' be afraid of me?"_

"_I thought that would be obvious," Snape said simply. Harry merely looked at him blankly. Sighing in annoyance, he said, "Didn't I tell you to use your head?"_

_Harry continued staring at Snape, expectantly now. After several moments, he said, "I'm waiting."_

_Growling in aggravation, he said, "Because, Potter, you're the Boy-Who-Lived." He spat the last words as if he couldn't get them out fast enough. "Everyone the Dark Lord has decided to kill is dead. Except for you."_

_Still frowning, Harry asked, "So this is because of what happened when he tried to fulfill the prophesy?"_

"_Not exactly. You have faced him more times than when you were one," Snape grudgingly explained. "You have, as the late Headmaster explained it, escaped him four times so far. Something not even your parents had done."_

"_So he's afraid of me because I keep running away from him?"_

"_Because you keep evading him and staying alive," Snape corrected him. "Not only that, but with all those close to you he has killed, it hasn't broken you."_

"_I will admit I have that annoying habit of not dying, but what do you mean 'broken'?" Harry asked._

"_Think about it Potter," Snape answered. "Think of how many of your friends and family he has killed or ordered killed. And after all that, you haven't experienced the overwhelming sorrow and grief like he expects. You haven't given up. In fact, it has made you stronger." Snape paused to think for a second. "In will and resolve," he continued. "Your desire to defeat him has grown each time."_

_Snape certainly did have a point. With all of Voldemort's attacks, whether he knew the victims or not, it just made Harry work harder and harder to get to the point where he could bring Voldemort down. Harry mulled over Snape's words for several minutes. _

"_So," he finally said, thinking back to something Snape had just told him, "is the prophesy also part of it?"_

"_I would assume so," Snape said, stroking his chin. "He still hasn't heard its full contents and, thus, believes there is a secret to beating you. I would assume he believes that he's in danger of the same outcome as when he first tried to kill you."_

"_Hmmm… I guess that gives me an advantage. Tell me," Harry said, "how did you find out all of this?"_

"_Because I am not as dense as you would like to believe," Snape sneered. "You are already aware of my means for acquiring information."_

"_So, what, you read Voldemort's mind? I thought he was too skilled for that," Harry said._

"_First of all," Snape told him with an air of forced patience, "I believe I previously explained how Legilimency is far more complex than the foolish Muggle notion of 'mind-reading'." After sneering again at Harry, he went on, "But yes, the Dark Lord is too skilled at Occlumency for me to directly search through his mind. But someone with a __**higher **__understanding of the art is able to get information by more than just a person's thoughts."_

"_Such as?"_

_Snape sighed in aggravation, but answered, "Many things. Inflection in the voice, facial expression, body language… all of these betray a person's true feelings."_

"_Ok," Harry went on, "but why would he not mask his emotions from you?"_

"_Because, Potter," Snape answered, "unlike you, the Dark Lord isn't aware of my training in such matters. He doesn't believe anyone is so keen as to detect such small signals."_

"_All right, I guess I can buy that," Harry said thoughtfully. "So Voldemort's afraid of me. I'll have to find a way to use that to my advantage."_

"_Don't get carried away, Potter," Snape told him. "Just because he's wary of what might happen doesn't mean he will hold back."_

……………

Harry sighed and sat back against his tree. He supposed he shouldn't remain mad at Snape for what happened. Despite the clouds surrounding his true intentions and his past treatment of Harry, he had actually been helpful over the past few days. Something Harry would not have expected in his wildest dreams.

He sat there for the longest time thinking about where Snape's true loyalties lied and what should be his next course of action. It was several hours before someone finally found him. Harry was firing conjured stones from his wand and sending them skipping across the surface of the lake when he heard someone approaching.

"Why are you doing that?" a familiar voice asked from right beside him.

Harry smiled to himself and answered, "It's something Muggles do when they're thinking."

"Oh."

Harry heard the figure start to walk away. "Have a seat, Ron. You're not interrupting me," he said.

Harry looked up at Ron, who looked very uncomfortable and was shifting his weight from side to side nervously. He paused for some time, trying to find the words.

"Look, Harry," he finally spoke up, "I just wanted to come down and tell you something. Then I'll leave you alone."

Harry assumed it was what Ginny had told him the other night. He looked up at Ron expectantly.

"Yeah… well, uh… about what happened over the summer," Ron said, not able to look at Harry. "I just… I wanted to say I'm sorry."

Harry opened his mouth to say something, but Ron stopped him. "No, let me finish. I figure I owe you an explanation. Just… it was right around when Hermione and I started dating. She was so upset, and, well… you know how I can be sometimes."

"Now that you mention it…" Harry said dryly.

"Right," Ron swallowed. He went on, "I knew I shouldn't have blamed you, but she did and I wanted to comfort her. As usual, I blew things out of proportion and lost my head."

Harry nodded at him. He then asked, "And the part about me wanting to 'steal her from you'?"

"Yeah, that," said Ron, looking down again. "I just get so jealous and overprotective. I guess it comes from growing up poor. A few days after it happened, I realised how horrible what I said was and how big a prat I had been."

Harry sighed. "I hope you know that I would gladly trade lives with any of the students here. I'd give up all my money and fame for a chance to lead a normal life like you."

"Another thing I wish I hadn't said," Ron told him. "I mean, the fame and gold looks good on the outside, but you've got plenty of problems that I wouldn't want to have to deal with."

"Thanks Ron," Harry said sarcastically. "But I'm glad you truly feel that way. I wouldn't wish for anyone to have what I have. I mean, the price I paid for the gold in my vault was knowing my parents. And godfather."

"Right," Ron said. "That was all I wanted to tell you. Whether you forgive me or not, I just wanted you to know that I didn't mean what I said. And I don't blame you for what happened."

Ron turned to leave, but Harry stopped him again. "You don't need my forgiveness. I understand why you did what you did and that you didn't mean it. I was mostly worried about you."

Ron cocked his head to the side. "What do you mean?"

"Peter."

"Come again?" Ron asked, looking more confused.

"Pettigrew. You know, Wormtail," Harry explained. "It's like I was telling Remus, he was always jealous of my dad and Sirius. In the end, I think that's why he turned to Voldemort. I don't want that to happen to you."

Ron wore an affronted look. "Hey, mate, I may lose my head at times, but when I put things in perspective, I've got it pretty good. I'd never betray you like that coward did."

"I know," Harry said quietly. "I just worry at times. But now I know not to."

"Good," Ron said. "I don't ever want to be compared to that piece of filth."

Harry looked up at his best friend. "I wish you had told me about all this sooner. I know I needed to work on my own, but it would have been nice to be able to talk to you."

"I had wanted to mate," Ron said animatedly. "I tried owling you but never got a reply. No one even knew where you were."

Harry chuckled. "I guess I did go a little overboard with the security." He shook his head and leaned back against the tree. "Would you sit down already?"

Ron looked shocked for a moment, but finally walked over to Harry and sat next to him under the tree. The sun started to set, painting a beautiful picture across the surface of the lake.

"You do blame yourself about what happened, don't you?" Ron asked, breaking the silence.

Harry knew what he meant. "Well, it was my fault. So of course I do. And so does Hermione."

"You don't know that," Ron replied. "You need to go and talk to her."

"That's probably not a good idea yet," Harry said, shaking his head. "I ran into her in Hogsmeade the other night. She… well, she didn't seem ready to talk to me."

"Maybe I can talk to her for you," Ron suggested. "Though, she's been more distant since we broke up."

"What exactly happened there?" asked Harry, unable to contain his curiosity.

"Oh, man," Ron said shaking his head. "That girl is mad. I mean… well, you know how she can get. Our whole relationship was one big row after another."

"I'm sorry," Harry told him truthfully.

Ron clapped him on the shoulder and said, "No worries mate. We're much better as friends anyway. Makes it easier for us to argue all the time." He grinned at Harry, and the added, "but don't let that put you off. If you want her, she's all yours."

"Uh… thanks for the offer, but that's all right," Harry said.

Ron frowned at him. "Really? Don't you fancy her?"

Harry shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know," he answered honestly. "Ever since the wedding, I had been looking at her differently. But I don't know what it meant."

"And you haven't figured it out yet?" Ron asked. He seemed thoroughly confused.

"Haven't even tried," said Harry. "Ever since… since her parents were killed, I pushed those thoughts out of my mind. I wasn't going to let something like that happen again. Even taught myself Occlumency."

"Really?" Ron asked, surprised. "But you always had so much trouble with it. And you learned it on your own?"

Harry nodded. "This time I had a legitimate reason. Back in our fifth year, Dumbledore never told me why he wanted me to learn. If I knew it would have saved Sirius' life, I'd have worked as hard as I could."

Ron looked thoughtfully at this. After a minute or so, he spoke up, asking a question Harry wasn't prepared for. "So, all this stuff with Hermione… I thought you fancied Ginny."

"I do," Harry answered reflexively. He hadn't really thought about his relationship with Ginny a lot. He honestly didn't know how he felt. "And I don't." He sighed deeply. "I don't really know, Ron. And this isn't really the time to think about it."

"I guess you're right," Ron said. "Just, after you two started dating, I thought you would always stay together. And after last June, I thought you would eventually get back together."

"Who knows?" Harry said, shrugging his shoulders. "If we can get rid of Voldemort, there'll be plenty of time for that."

Ron started chuckling, and said, "And you'll need all the time you can get, mate. You've already got the heart of every girl in Britain… take out You-Know-Who and you'll be fighting them off from all over the world."

"Prat," Harry said, punching his friend in the arm. "You must have been talking to Tonks."

Still smiling, Ron raised his eyebrow and asked, "When did you see Tonks?"

"The other night," answered Harry. "She came with the other Aurors."

"Oh, right."

Despite his efforts, Harry's thoughts turned back to Friday night. Images flashed through his mind, superimposed on the tranquil scene of the lake and sunset. Ron must have sensed his discomfort and remained silent. They stayed that way for several minutes as Harry tried to clear his mind, not wanting to relive what happened with Dolohov for several lifetimes.

"Why is it always Halloween?" Harry finally spoke. Ron looked at him questioningly, so Harry explained, "All this stuff: my parents dying, that stupid troll, Nick's Deathday party, a murderer loose in the castle… and now this." He nodded his head toward Hogsmeade. "Worst that happens in the Muggle world is you get eggs thrown at your house."

"Really?" Ron asked, looking rather interested.

Harry laughed at this. "You really should have taken Muggle Studies, you know."

"Why bother when I've got you and Hermione around?" Ron said jokingly.

Harry continued to smile. He was immensely enjoying the conversation with Ron, and very relieved to have his best friend back. For the past few months, he had been completely alone, with no one to turn to when he needed advice or help. But now that he was back at Hogwarts, with things with Ron patched up and an immense wealth of knowledge and history at his fingertips, he actually felt the pressure lift off of him. For the first time, he felt that eliminating the Horcruxes was an achievable goal.

As if sensing Harry's thoughts, Ron asked, "You all right, Harry? You got all quiet and serious."

"I'm fine Ron. Just thinking," Harry said. "I guess with Dumbledore gone, things are so different. Things can get overwhelming at times."

Ron nodded in agreement. "I know just what you mean. Things here have been pretty crazy. Nothing with You-Know-Who and all that," Ron went on when he saw Harry's questioning look, "Just school stuff. McGonagall couldn't find anyone to teach Transfiguration, so she's doing that as well as her Headmistress duties. And Slughorn was forced to stay another year. Plus, the new Defense professor is also our new Head."

Harry hadn't heard anything about the new professor and asked Ron about it. "You'll meet him tomorrow, assuming you're going to classes," Ron told him. "He's not too bad. He knows his stuff all right, and he's taught quite a bit before coming here. He's definitely the best Defense professor we've had."

"That's good," said Harry. Talking about how different things were without Dumbledore had actually given Harry an idea. He really could use the old man's wisdom at the moment, and he decided to give the portrait another try. "Listen Ron, I just thought of something I need to do. But thanks for coming and talking to me."

They both stood up and brushed themselves off, and Ron said, "Don't mention it. Just so long as you're not still mad with me."

"Of course not," Harry told him. "I'm just glad you're not mad at me." Ron wasn't one to openly discuss his feelings, and for that matter, neither was Harry. So they just left it at that.

"So I'll see you in the common room later?" Ron asked him.

"Er… Well, I'm not staying in our dorm right now," Harry told him. Ron looked quite confused, and Harry went on, "See, with all the stuff I'm working on, I've got a bunch of things lying around that most people shouldn't see. So McGonagall put me in that private chamber on the sixth floor."

Ron looked rather disappointed in hearing this. Harry could understand that perfectly. He had just got his best friend back and now had to tell him why he would only see him in classes and meals.

"It's probably only temporary though," Harry explained. "I don't think I'd really be comfortable around everyone yet. Maybe in a few weeks when things have settled down, I can move back and just use this room for my other work."

They started walking back up to the castle, and Ron seemed to cheer up a bit. Their conversation was about trivial things: the Quidditch team, schoolwork, who was dating who, and various other happenings. When they got to the Entrance Hall, Harry told him, "Come down to my room later and I'll catch you up on everything I've been doing."

"Sure thing Harry," Ron said and headed off in the direction of Gryffindor Tower. He waved back before disappearing around a corner, and Harry smiled to himself, feeling an enormous pressure lifted off his shoulders. Things were close to being back to normal. Or, at least, as normal as they could get when you were Harry Potter.

.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.

A few minutes later, Harry found himself standing in front of the large door to the Headmistresses office. He held the metal griffin and knocked sharply several times. The next second, the door swung open silently and Harry stepped in.

McGonagall was sitting at her desk, wearing her usual robes of red, and looking over several small stacks of parchment. She looked up when Harry entered and said, "Good evening, Mr. Potter." Taking off her glasses and setting them on the desk, she sat back and asked, "What can I do for you tonight?"

"Good evening Professor. Sorry to bother you, but I was hoping I could talk to someone," Harry said, gesturing to the portraits above her head. "If you don't mind, of course."

"Not at all," she said dismissively. "In fact, I was just about to head down for dinner." McGonagall stood up and came around from behind her desk. "Take as much time as you need."

Harry thanked her politely and watched as she left the office and headed down the spiral staircase. Once she was gone, Harry sat down in one of the chairs facing the desk and looked up at Dumbledore's frame. It was empty. Harry sighed in frustration and considered leaving. But he didn't want to come back and bother McGonagall again, so he tried to get his old Headmaster to come back.

"Dumbledore!" he called out. Harry waited for a moment, but nothing happened. Harry tried again, this time louder than before. A split-second later, he watched as the figure of Albus Dumbledore slid into his frame. He looked confused at first, but as soon as he saw Harry, his face softened and he smiled.

"Ah, Harry! I was hoping you would come and visit me some time," Dumbledore said casually, as if he were sitting in the chair across from Harry and not in a painting hanging on the wall.

"Hello Professor," Harry said. He then paused for a moment, not really knowing how to start a conversation with a portrait. "How are you doing?" seemed like as good a place as any.

"An interesting question actually," Dumbledore said pensively. "I don't think I can say how the true Albus Dumbledore is doing, though I expect he is enjoying himself, wherever he is. I can tell you that this form of him is doing well."

Harry smiled at his words, but then fell silent. He had wanted nothing more than to have a conversation with Dumbledore ever since he had died. But to be honest, now that he had the opportunity, he had no idea what to say.

"Harry?" the portrait asked after several moments of his silence.

Harry looked up, shaken from his thoughts. "Sorry, sir. This is kind of weird for me. I guess I'm not really sure how to talk to you."

Dumbledore nodded in understanding. "If it helps you for now, think of me as the real Albus Dumbledore. What would you say to him?"

Harry chuckled at the question. "So, so many things. I think the _problem _is what you said. I keep thinking of you as the Dumbledore I knew and I have to force myself to remember that you're not. Do you know everything the real Dumbledore knew?"

"For the most part," the portrait said. "My purpose in this form is to impart my wisdom on the current Headmaster or Headmistress. So it would make sense that I retain all the knowledge and experiences from the life of Albus Dumbledore."

Harry was happy to hear this. "What was the last thing you remember?"

"Hmmm," the portrait thought. "I remember being outside… seeing the Dark Mark… I was feeling very weak. And then I closed my eyes, and I was here."

"That was right before you died," Harry told him.

"Ah yes, you were there with me. Tell me, who was the one that killed me?" Dumbledore asked.

"Snape."

"Of course, the Vow," Dumbledore said. "Good. Listen Harry, I can't speak for the real Dumbledore, but I want to apologise for some of my actions."

"Don't worry about it," Harry told him, not eager to relive some of the things he had already come to terms with.

However, Dumbledore went on as if he didn't hear Harry. "I wish I had been more forward with you with some things. I expect my death was something of a shock to you. I just hope you didn't do anything rash in regards to Severus."

"No, I've made my peace with that," said Harry.

"Good. I also wish I had spent more time helping the world learn to live without me," Dumbledore went on gravely. "I've been watching Minerva, and things aren't going well. I hadn't realised people were so dependent on me. I hope I didn't hurt _you_ too much in that regard."

Harry sighed and thought back to the beginning of his summer. "It did at first, but I got by."

"I apologise," Dumbledore told him sadly. "I certainly didn't wish for things to turn out this way, but I knew when my end was near and I should have prepared you for it. The last year when we worked together to discover the Horcruxes was among the best of my very long life. Working with you and watching you grow gave me confidence that you truly would defeat Voldemort." Harry merely nodded at this. "As the years went on, I regarded you less as a student and more as a son. And a friend. I have no doubts that you will vanquish Voldemort."

"Thank you sir," Harry said softly. Even though it was a portrait talking to him, he was truly touched at the words the real Dumbledore surely would have said. Of course, that also made him think of something else the real Dumbledore had said. And something he had been thinking about earlier.

"Professor, why did you trust Snape?" he asked.

Dumbledore looked surprised by the question. "I'm afraid I can't answer that. That was something between Severus and me. Or rather, between Severus and Albus Dumbledore. If he should confide in you, so be it. But for now, I must keep his secrets."

Harry sighed at the answer he got. He wondered how a painting could have such high morals. Perhaps he would have to wait for another day to know. As if he could ever get Snape to open up to him.

Harry loosened up a bit and started talking more easily with his old Headmaster. They started out discussing the current state of the country and Voldemort's increasing influence and spread of terror. Then they moved on to discussing the Horcruxes in depth. Dumbledore listened as Harry described what he had discovered so far, and his ideas on what he was currently looking for. Dumbledore praised him for the progress he had made and agreed with his next plans. Harry was thankful that he seemed to be taking the right course of action.

"How did you do it sir?" Harry asked thoughtfully after a long pause. He took a sip of his tea and set it back on the desk before looking up at the portrait. When the sun had set completely and the lamps in the office lit, McGonagall had sent up a tray of tea and biscuits, knowing Harry had yet to eat dinner.

"Do what, Harry?" Dumbledore asked back.

"Defeat Grindelwald," answered Harry. "I've read some books of history from that time but all they ever say is that you were the one that ended him. From the sound of it, you had a much easier time of it than I'm having now."

Dumbledore seemed to consider his words for several moments. "Well it certainly wasn't easy," he started. "Though, forgive me for saying this, but I daresay getting rid of Voldemort will prove much more difficult. But you must remember that they are two _very_ different wizards."

"How so sir?"

"Their motives, for one," said Dumbledore. "Grindelwald wanted to rule the world. He believed in force through numbers, and that was his main weapon. He saw his individual minions as expendable as long as they could overwhelm his enemy. It took many witches and wizards, and resources, to battle him."

Harry pondered over this for a minute. "And what about Voldemort?"

"Voldemort merely wants to rule the magical world and purge all those he sees unfit to be a part of it. Voldemort is what Muggles would call a terrorist. What he lacks in numbers, he makes up for in threats," explained Dumbledore. "His weapon is _fear_. With his frequent attacks, he has convinced the population that anyone could be his next victim and it could come at any time. No one feels safe and he has forced hundreds into hiding."

"So how many Death Eaters do you think he has?" Harry asked.

"Hard to say," thought Dumbledore. "I would guess around four or five dozen at the very most." At the look of disbelief on Harry's face, he went on, "You see, despite what you may have seen through his eyes, Voldemort values the life of each one of his servants. He knows everything about them, knows what they are capable of. He does not recruit inept wizards purely for the purpose of manpower. Nor does he send his Death Eaters out without knowing _everything_ about their mission, or unless he is absolutely sure that they are more than able to handle whatever may happen."

"And everything he's done, it's all been possible because everyone fears him?"

"Is it so hard to believe? The majority of us won't even speak his name. Think about it Harry," Dumbledore said. "Voldemort is only one man. He isn't strong enough alone to conquer all of wizardkind. He uses fear on everyone. Even his Death Eaters."

Dumbledore paused for a moment and sat back in his chair. He seemed to be thinking of how he wanted to word something.

"Think for a moment," he finally said, "what would happen if all of Voldemort's servants deserted him at once, or turned against him. He couldn't possibly defeat them all, could he?"

"But they couldn't beat him either," Harry countered.

"Ah, yes… a good thought. You and I both know that Voldemort cannot yet be truly killed. But," he went on, "You and I also know that his body _can _be destroyed. He could of course return again, but until that time, we would be rid of him. And remember that the Death Eaters don't know of his Horcruxes. So what is stopping them from turning on him?"

"Uhhh… because they're afraid of him?" Harry answered simply.

"Correct, Harry, but not quite enough. Now imagine what would happen if just one Death Eater turned on him."

"He would be killed," said Harry.

"With even more fear being instilled in the remaining servants," Dumbledore nodded. "And what if one Death Eater told another to help him turn on Voldemort? It is possible that he may go along, but then there would still only be two, which is well within Voldemort's abilities. Of course, it is much more likely that the second would still be too afraid and quickly inform his master of the deserter's intentions, lest someone find out."

"I think I understand now," Harry said. "They could all defeat Voldemort if they combined their powers, but no one has enough guts to suggest it."

"Precisely," Dumbledore told him. "And therein lies Voldemort's strength. This fight isn't a war in the traditional sense, with two armies battling, chipping away at each other until one side surrenders or is destroyed. Voldemort is too smart for that. He doesn't tolerate loss of life on his end. He uses outside people to get whatever he needs, places spies anywhere that has information he wants, and never lets the populace get too calm and relaxed."

"Because if they relax and start thinking rationally," Harry interrupted, "They will understand that they can stand up to Voldemort and fight back." He finally understood why the wizarding world did hardly anything to fight back.

"Exactly," Dumbledore told him, looking very pleased. "With Grindelwald, it was easier. One army against another, fighting until one gives in. With Voldemort though, you don't know who is your friend and who is your enemy. Anyone could be a spy and it is very difficult to place your trust in anyone. Though the Ministry tries to fight back, it is ineffective. They don't have the manpower to keep up with every move Voldemort makes, and the population in turn loses their trust in them and becomes more apathetic."

Harry thought about his words. It certainly didn't make the idea of defeating Voldemort seem any easier. Once he managed to find and destroy all of the Horcruxes, he would still have to find a way to get the world to stand up for itself. He then thought about Dumbledore fighting Grindelwald and some of the things his old Headmaster must have done.

Dumbledore looked down and noticed Harry getting lost in his own thoughts. "Harry? Is something wrong?"

Harry looked up at him. Now matter how much he tried to avoid it, he couldn't stop his thoughts from returning to Halloween night. Perhaps he could talk to Dumbledore about it. It wasn't the real Dumbledore so he couldn't really worry about being judged or punished. And with his wealth of knowledge, the old man could probably relate.

Harry took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He then asked, barely above a whisper, "Sir, have you ever used an Unforgivable?"

Dumbledore's face was expressionless for a moment, but looked down at Harry consolingly. "Still thinking about Bellatrix, are you?"

Harry was confused at first, until it registered what Dumbledore was asking. "What? I… oh, that," he stuttered, remembering what had happened with Bellatrix in the Ministry a year and a half ago. But then… "Wait, how did you hear about that?"

"Severus," answered Dumbledore.

Harry gaped at him, trying to work that one out. Perhaps Bellatrix informed Voldemort after it happened, who told the rest of his followers as ammunition for their taunts. Or a way to blackmail him. "Git," he muttered under his breath.

"Do you mean there was another instance?" Dumbledore asked tentatively. Harry looked up at him, but quickly aimed his gaze back down at the floor. "You can tell me Harry."

Harry nodded. Still looking at the ground, he said, "It was the other night. During the attack. Dolohov was about to kill Hermione. And I… I… I didn't have any other option." He quickly looked up at Dumbledore, begging for some kind of comfort. Getting things out in the open certainly wasn't making things easier. He had done his best to avoid any thought on the matter, and now… he felt cold. He felt a dirtiness that wouldn't wash away. He felt disgusted with himself and terrified at what might happen if anyone found out. He was sick to his stomach with shame and guilt as he tried to justify himself for taking the life of another.

_But is their justification?_ he thought. _Did I do all that I could? Wasn't there some other way of resolving the situation?_ The feeling of sickness spread from his stomach to his entire body. All he could see in his mind was the grinning face of Antonin Dolohov. The man he had killed. Sure, Dolohov had killed countless witches and wizards, but that didn't necessarily make right what Harry did._ Did it? Dolohov was a danger to everyone, including my friends. But is that enough for him to __**need**__ to die?_

"Harry?" Dumbledore asked softly.

"I killed him," Harry whispered. Those three simple words were the hardest he had ever had to say in his life. He couldn't bear to look up and see Dumbledore's reaction. He held his gaze with the floor and ignored the stinging in the corners of his eyes.

Dumbledore didn't sigh or leave in disgust. He didn't yell or tell Harry what a horrible person he was. He merely said, "Please… tell me what happened. If you can."

A silence hung heavily in the room. If any of the other portraits were awake or listening in, they knew that it was definitely not the right time to chime in. Harry remained still for several minutes as he attempted to explain. He opened his mouth a dozen times, but no words came out.

Eventually, Harry found his speech and told Dumbledore everything. How he had dueled with Dolohov, how Hermione appeared, how Dolohov used his shield charm, everything. When he was done, he cradled his head in his hands and waited for Dumbledore to say something.

"Harry," he said, "do you think what you did was wrong?"

Finally, Harry raised his head and looked up at the portrait. Surprisingly, to him, Dumbledore's face was expressionless. Harry expected it to be filled with disgust and reprimand. Especially after the completely obvious question he had just asked. "Of course it was wrong," he nearly shouted. "Another man has died by my hand."

"Harry, listen to me," Dumbledore said calmly. "From what you told me, about your physical state, your need to make a quick decision, your need to protect the life of your friend, the shield he used… I am familiar with it and you were correct in believing there is only one spell able to penetrate it. Taking all these things into account, I believe you only had one option."

Harry's expression softened a little, and Dumbledore continued. "I know this must be difficult for you, to deal with and to talk about. But you shouldn't be too hard on yourself." He raised his hand as soon as Harry opened his mouth to disagree. "Many people before you have done the same thing for the same reasons. It doesn't make you a bad person, or a murderer. It actually speaks for your character, to do such an extreme act, make such a self-sacrifice, in order to save a friend. I think that Miss Granger would agree. However controversial you see your decision, you saved her life."

"But," Harry spoke up, "but what if I discover something different I could have done?"

"It's possible. In fact, I highly doubt that you won't," Dumbledore told him. At the look on Harry's face, he continued, "There is a Muggle saying that hindsight is twenty-twenty. Having been to a Muggle eye doctor, I'm sure you can understand the logic behind it. With enough time to look back on them, we can see all of our decisions quite clearly. You may realixe something you could have done differently or some way you could have ended the duel more quickly. Years from now, you may come across a new spell that would have stopped Dolohov without killing him. But you must remember that at the time it happened, in your state of mind, you only had one option before you."

Harry nodded in understanding. "Have you ever done it sir?" he asked, looking up again.

"That, I cannot tell you," Dumbledore said solemnly. "Perhaps that bit of information was left out of this incarnation of Albus Dumbledore. But as for you, you cannot let this consume you. I've known wizards who could never come to grips with taking another's life and wasted away from the guilt or drank themselves to death." He paused momentarily, and then asked, "Harry, do you know what makes the Unforgivable Curses unforgivable?"

Harry shook his head, saying, "We never learned that much about them. Just what they're used for."

Dumbledore explained, "It isn't because of what they can do. It is because of the emotion needed to fuel them. To want utter control of a person's body and mind, to want to make someone feel excruciating pain until the beg you to stop, to hate someone so much that you want them to die… These are why they are so horrible." He stopped for a moment to let this information sink in. "I'm wondering, what were you feeling the two times you used them?"

Harry felt this might make it easier to discuss, and answered, "Well, with Bellatrix, it was right after she… killed Sirius. I wanted her to feel the same pain she had caused me. But it didn't work. She said righteous anger wouldn't hurt her for long."

"Of course," nodded Dumbledore. "You wanted her to feel the sorrow and grief you felt, you didn't want to physically hurt her. Please, go on."

"Well," Harry continued, "With Dolohov, I felt a lot of hate, but I don't know if it was all for him. I hated the situation, and hated the fact that I only had one option to save my friend."

Dumbledore nodded again. "This is very interesting. By definition, your use of the spell shouldn't have worked at all. I'll have to think about this. But for now, I believe the Headmistress requires her office again, so we'll have to end our discussion."

"Right," Harry said, checking his watch. He needed to get back soon if he wanted to have time to talk to Ron. "Thank you for helping me sort some things out."

"Of course Harry. Come back any time you want," Dumbledore told him as he stood up. "And don't forget what I told you."

"I won't," Harry said as he started walking out, and then muttered as an afterthought, "though I'm not expecting to get much sleep for a while."

.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.

It was much later during that sleepless night that Harry found himself striding quickly down an unfamiliar street in a small town just outside London. He had cast a silencing charm on his shoes to make sure his footsteps couldn't be heard on the rough stone, allowing him to quickly sneak up on anyone. Despite the fact that he had his Invisibility Cloak wrapped tightly around him, he was constantly looking in all directions to make sure no one was around. As he came to the next intersection, he looked up at the street sign to make sure he was close.

Before leaving Snape's house earlier that day, he was informed of a minor mission that Harry might have an interest in stopping and gave Harry all the details. The two Death Eaters he was tracking were on their way to the house of a Muggle-born student, most likely intent on killing the parents. Harry didn't know the motives, but the Death Eaters were both fairly important, so something was obviously done to anger Voldemort.

Harry didn't really care what they were up to, because he didn't need extra incentive to go after these targets. When he spotted the house in question, he slowed down and crept closer, forgetting that he couldn't be seen or heard. Both of the Death Eaters were standing on the front porch, ready to enter. Harry dropped down behind the hedges lining the walkway and snuck closer to the house. He figured the best way to handle this was to wait for the Death Eaters to sneak inside and then ambush them before they could hurt anyone. He didn't know if things would go smoothly and didn't want to make a lot of noise out in the open where he could be seen.

Harry reached the house and tried to make sense of the whispers he heard from both men. He couldn't understand what was being said, but did hear when one of them used an Unlocking charm on the door. Harry was instantly on his feet and deftly leaped over the hedge as soon as both men entered the house.

Using he agility from years of Quidditch training, he dashed up the steps and skidded silently through the door before one of the Death Eaters closed it behind them. "What was that?" the Death Eater at the door whispered, to which the other replied, "That was you being too slow. Come on, let's finish this."

The first Death Eater started to climb the stairs and the one at the door made to follow, but Harry drew his wand and silently placed a Stunner in his back. The man fell to the ground with a thump. The first man said, "Quit fooling around, you'll wake them," while turning around.

As soon as he saw the body on the ground, he drew his wand, checked the angle from which his partner was attacked, and yelled, "_Stupefy!_"

Fortunately, Harry had already moved and the beam of red light hit the wall several feet behind them. Before the first Death Eater could fire again, Harry Stunned him as well, causing him to keel over and crash down several stairs.

Harry heard noises upstairs and a light flickered on. He pulled off his Invisibility Cloak, but kept on his other hooded cloak so that he couldn't be identified. Not long after, a husband and wife cautiously came down the stairs, the former brandishing a cricket bat and the latter holding a telephone. When they saw the two bodies on the floor, the wife started to dial for the police.

"Don't," Harry whispered forcefully. He hadn't been seen by the couple until then, and the husband raised the bat and took a step forward. Harry raised his wand and told them, "I'm not going to hurt you."

"Who are you?" the husband asked, gripping his weapon tighter.

"I'm a friend of your son's," Harry told them, and the wife gasped. "These men were sent here to kidnap or kill you. Don't worry about the police, magic has been done here and there is no witch or wizard of age in this area so the Ministry will be here soon."

Harry walked over to the two Death Eaters lying next to one another and decided to use the Barrier Charm he had learned recently. With his wand, he traced a circle on the ground around them while the couple looked on in fascination. Then, he raised his wand toward the ceiling while muttering, "_Obsaeptum_," bringing a glowing white hemisphere of magical energy up to surround them.

"Don't worry," Harry told them, "Even if they wake up, they won't be able to get out of there. And the Ministry can remove the barrier when they get here."

"Why did they come here?" the husband asked, finally lowering his bat.

"They were sent by Lord Voldemort, for reasons I don't know. Voldemort hates Muggles as well as Muggle-born witches and wizards. That could be his only cause for targeting you," said Harry. "Whatever the case, you're not safe here anymore. The Ministry will be able to protect you though. And they should show up any second now, so I must go." Harry started toward the door, but the husband called him back.

"I… thank you," he said, offering his hand to Harry.

Harry shook it and nodded at both of them before he left the house and Disapparated. The couple ran outside after him but he was already gone.

.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.

A/N- ok, so I'm really sorry this took so long. I don't really have a good excuse, I just kind of got away from fan fiction for a while. But a few weeks ago I started reading some again, which in turn made me want to write. I'm pretty mad at myself because when I started this, I promised myself I wasn't gonna be one of those authors that writes half of a story and abandons it, or goes half a year between updates (btw this one was just under 5 months :o) ) But I fully intend on finishing this. I started it because I had some ideas and wanted to see if I could make a good story out of them. I'm not going to be presumptuous or egotistical and think that people were waiting for me to update, but if that was the case, I apologize and thank you for being patient with me. On a side note, I really, really, hate the title of my story and I would be open to suggestions if you have one. I actually hate several things about the story, but most of them fit in fine and can't really be changed.


	12. No Time Like The Present

**Chapter 12**

**No Time Like The Present**

"Ugh…. I just fell asleep... I'm gonna blast that thing…"

Harry's mutterings could barely be heard over the ringing alarm on his bedside table. He wasn't used to waking up to an alarm. Nor was he used to waking up quite so early. At Grimmauld Place, he started his mornings at a reasonable hour, but it was only after he had gotten a decent amount of sleep.

Considering Harry would be starting classes today, he figured it probably wasn't such a good idea to go out and 'fight crime' the night before. Between his late night and his sporadic nightmares, he figured he got, at most, three or four hours of sleep. _Probably not the best way to make a good impression on my first day back,_ he thought as he tried to make his weary body move.

Of course, his late night wasn't really avoidable. He had a chance to stop a Death Eater attack, and it's not like he could pass it up and allow a family to be murdered. In addition, the two carrying out the attack were men Harry wanted to take down himself.

Harry briefly pondered over the idea of becoming some sort of vigilante for a living. He thought back to some old American western movies he had watched at the Dursley's, in the miniscule amount of time that he spent in front of the television. _Nah, I probably wouldn't look good in the hat,_ he told himself, shifting his thoughts back to the present and the day ahead of him.

It took him a while before he willed himself to get out of bed, his limbs feeling like they weighed several tons each. When he finally woke up completely and showered, he donned his Hogwarts robes. They felt odd on him, after wearing Muggle clothes for so long. Apparently returning to Hogwarts wasn't going to be as easy as he thought. He was so used to doing things on his own: working on his own time, eating what he wanted when he wanted, and doing everything alone. He wasn't sure how he would adjust to being in a castle full of people again.

After much shifting around and adjustment to make his robes more comfortable, he grabbed his bag and headed down to the Great Hall for breakfast. It was still fairly early and he hoped there would only be a few people awake by now. Or, at least that's the way he planned it.

He walked the familiar path down to the Entrance Hall, taking his time to get reacquainted with the many hallways of the castle. It seemed like each portrait, tapestry, or suit of armor brought back memories and made him feel more at ease and more at home. After all, Hogwarts is the closest thing to a home that Harry ever had.

Once he reached the Great Hall, he entered and headed towards the Gryffindor table. As he expected, there were only two professors and a handful of students. A few of the students looked up at his entrance, and did nothing to hide their looks of shock. Harry ignored their gaping faces following his movement and took a seat at the end of the table.

After helping himself to the food in front of him, he took out his Charms book and opened it on the table. Harry had received his class schedule from McGonagall the day before and he had double Charms this morning, followed by a free period. It was a good thing that he had managed to keep up with his studies with everything else going on. He wouldn't fancy starting at the beginning when everyone else was in the middle of the term.

Harry had finished eating and had just finished reviewing the chapter his Charms class was set to study when someone sat down roughly beside him. He looked up to see Ron, clutching a rolled up edition of the _Daily Prophet_.

"Seen it yet?" Ron asked, spreading out the paper and offering it to Harry.

Harry merely took it, with a pretty good idea of what Ron was referring to. Ron, meanwhile, grabbed whatever food was in front of him and began eating. Glancing at the title on the front page was enough to get Harry's attention and confirm his suspicions.

_Two Death Eaters Mysteriously Captured Near Croydon_

_The Department of Magical Law Enforcement was baffled when they arrived at a Muggle couple's house just outside Croydon and found two Death Eaters Stunned and trapped under a Barrier Charm. Kenneth and Margaret Zeller spoke to Ministry officials early this morning, recounting the strange occurrence. The couple was awoken and went downstairs to find a man in black standing over the two unconscious Death Eaters. After assuring that everything would be taken care of, the cloaked stranger Apparated away. A patrol from the DMLE arrived minutes later, closely followed by several Aurors. The Death Eaters, who are now in Ministry custody, were not named in the official report, but were said to be very important targets, working for He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named during his original reign of terror. Their capture will definitely be a setback for the self-proclaimed Dark Lord. The purpose for their attack is unknown, but it is assumed that the two residents were the target. The Zellers have a daughter in her third year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. However, the Ministry, while grateful, does not condone acts of vigilantism and must remind the magical community to leave You-Know-Who and his followers to the Aurors._

"Rubbish," Harry said, tossing the newspaper aside. _And they probably didn't give names because they don't want us finding out that the Death Eaters were supposed to be locked up already,_ he thought.

Ron looked up from his food with a frown. "You think they made it up?" he asked, picking up the paper and looking over the article again.

"Not that, it's all true," said Harry, a little too casually. "It's that stuff at the end, telling everyone not to fight back or stand up for themselves."

"Well they're right, aren't they?" Ron said. "I mean, ordinary wizards aren't much of a match for You-Know-Who. The Ministry's the only one that has a chance."

Harry scoffed, and said, "Yeah, because they've done such a good job already."

"I thought they were holding their own."

Shaking his head, Harry replied, "They're losing, Ron. They're losing to a force they outnumber at least three to one."

"Really? I thought there were hundreds of Death Eaters," Ron said in disbelief.

"Not even close," Harry told him. "Something I talked about with Dumbledore. He uses the _threat_ of force just as much as much as force itself. He has everyone believing that they can't win."

"But I thought they were faring alright," Ron said, still flipping through the paper. "At least, that's what the _Prophet_ has been saying."

"That's just their misguided attempt to instill hope," Harry told him with a sigh.

"Well, isn't that better than telling everyone how poorly the fighting is going, and how we're all doomed?" Ron asked. Harry merely shrugged, indicating that he didn't agree. "Then what do you think they should do?"

"Tell them the truth," he said simply. Ron raised a questioning eyebrow at him, and Harry went on. "Well, not all of the truth. We can't really tell everyone that Voldemort is immortal. But we can tell them that they aren't outnumbered. And that the fight isn't a lost cause."

Ron nodded in agreement. "But if it's that easy, then how come no one has come out and said it yet?" he asked.

Harry shrugged again. "I don't know. Maybe no one has realised how much good it would do."

Harry reached for his glass of pumpkin juice, but pulled back when he saw Ron looking at him oddly. "You alright mate?" Harry asked.

"You should do it, Harry," said Ron, as if that was supposed to explain everything.

"Do what?"

"What you just said," Ron explained. "Tell everyone. Tell them all to not give up hope. To keep fighting."

Harry was about to pass of Ron's idea as ridiculous, and had even opened his mouth before he stopped himself. _Was it ridiculous?_ he thought. After all, that was exactly what Scrimgeour had been begging him to do. And now that the idea was presented to him from someone else, it made perfect sense. The only problem was the amount of influence it would have coming from Harry Potter. The Ministry had previously done quite a bit to discredit him and he probably wasn't very high in the public's opinion at the moment. But it was worth a shot.

"Believe it or not, I think you may be right," Harry said

"Very funny, Harry," Ron said. He then added, in seriousness, "So does that mean you'll try it?"

"I think so," Harry answered.

While Harry and Ron had talked, the Great Hall filled with students, and they were now starting to trickle out. Harry checked his watch and noticed that classes were going to begin soon. He also noticed most people eyed him curiously as they passed by. Fortunately for Harry, this was something he was very used to. If not, it would have made him very angry. As it was, he was merely annoyed. He did his best to ignore them and turned back to Ron.

"We should probably get going," he said just as Ron was finishing his breakfast.

"Charms first, right? Say, I'm not going to have to tutor you, am I?" Ron asked cheekily.

"No, I've been keeping up," Harry said. "Besides, I could find a much better tutor than you," he quipped.

Ron stood up and grabbed his bag, with Harry following suit. "So on top of everything, you've been studying your classes as well?" Ron asked incredulously.

Harry chuckled slightly. To Ron, the idea of doing schoolwork while not in school was ludicrous. "I guess I always hoped I'd be able to come back," he said.

As the both made their way out of the Great Hall, Harry noticed Hermione sitting at the opposite end of the Gryffindor table. She was eating alone, with several books spread out in front of her. Harry stopped walking and watched her, her eyes darting back and forth over her many books. He then reached out and stopped Ron as well.

"Hey Ron," he said, "maybe you should walk to class with her." He gestured to Hermione, and Ron looked at him questioningly. "Well, she still hates me," Harry explained, though it pained him to say those words aloud, "and if you spend all your time with me, she would get upset."

"I… guess," Ron said, not sounding convinced at all.

"Look, I don't want to cause her anymore problems than I already have. Just sit with her in classes like you have been," Harry told him. "I'll probably sit in the back anyway. I'm not keen to draw anymore attention to myself than I have to."

"If you say so," said Ron reluctantly. "Meet me in the library afterwards?"

Harry nodded, and Ron headed over to Hermione. Harry quickly exited the Great Hall and headed up to the third floor. Many eyes followed him through the Entrance Hall and up the stairs. He was relieved when he got to the Charms corridor where it was practically empty. Not long after he started walking down the hallway, though, he heard quick footsteps behind him and a familiar feminine voice call out his name. Harry turned to see Parvati Patil hurrying towards him. Her eyes were slightly red and the streaks down her face indicated that she had recently been crying.

"Hey Parvati, what—" Harry started, but was cut of when she threw herself onto him, hugging him tightly.

"Thank you, Harry," she whispered into his robes.

Harry, who wasn't good at all when it came to crying girls, was more than a little uncomfortable. He patted her awkwardly on the back, in what he hoped was a soothing way. "Uh… thanks for what?" he asked after a moment.

She let go of him and looked up. Her eyes were beginning to well up again and Harry shifted nervously. "I know… I know nothing can bring Padma and Mum back," she said, as a single tear escaped her eye and slid down her cheek. "But it's nice to know that the people responsible are locked up."

Harry looked around cautiously to make sure no one was within earshot. "But how did you find out?" he asked.

She showed him an envelope bearing the Ministry seal. "The Ministry owled my dad. Apparently the two Death Eaters gave up that piece of information when they were questioned. And they wanted us to know."

"Oh…" Harry said. "But how did you find out?" Harry said again, asking the other question on his mind.

Parvati smiled and said, "One of the fifth year prefects saw you go through that secret passage down on the first floor corridor last night. And I put it together."

Harry mentally cursed himself for being careless, which Parvati seemed to pick up on. "Don't worry," she said, "He doesn't know that it leads out of the castle. No one else knows it was you. And I won't tell anyone."

"Thanks," Harry said, smiling in relief.

"But why did you do it?" she asked. "I mean, why would you risk that? Wasn't it dangerous?"

"I did it because I knew what they had done," Harry told her. "They killed Angelina as well. And Hermione's parents. And I wanted to make sure that I personally brought them down."

Parvati let another tear slip out. Harry quickly conjured a handkerchief and offered it to her. She took it with a smile and wiped her eyes. "Come on, we need to get to class," Harry said and Parvati nodded.

They walked down the hall until they got to Flitwick's class. Harry followed behind her inside and headed for a seat on the back row. He was surprised when Parvati sat down next to him.

"Why don't you sit with Ron and Hermione instead of back here?" she whispered to him.

"Hermione's kind of angry with me right now," Harry told her. "That, and I'm not really used to being around a lot of people yet."

"Oh. Do you mind if I sit here?" she asked.

"Not at all," Harry told her just as Professor Flitwick entered the classroom.

Lavender Brown walked in right behind Flitwick, making it just in time. She walked to the back and sat down next to Parvati, clearly breathless. "Hey Parvati. Hi Harry, welcome back," she said as she started unpacking her things.

"Thanks," he told her, before shifting his attention to the front of the classroom.

Professor Flitwick was standing behind his desk, looking around to make sure they weren't missing anyone. His eyes lit up when he saw Harry, and he exclaimed, "Ah yes, Mr. Potter! Good to have you with us."

"Thanks, Professor," Harry told him, as most of the students turned around to look at him. _Geez, it's like they've never seen me before_ Harry thought.

After Flitwick confirmed that everyone was present, he started the lesson. "Now, we're starting a new subject today: Enchantments. So, who can tell me what an Enchantment is."

Several people in the room raised their hands, but one who didn't was Hermione. She was merely staring down at the piece of parchment she was taking notes on. Flitwick called on Anthony Goldstein.

"An Enchantment is a Charm placed on an object or location that gives it permanent, and usually beneficial, magical qualities," Anthony recited.

"Excellent!" Flitwick squeaked. "A perfect definition." Anthony smiled at the praise from his teacher and head of house. "Now, the most important thing that defines an Enchantment is that it is _permanent_. Of course, a witch or wizard can use magic to remove an Enchantment, but, unlike an ordinary Charm, it won't wear off over time. Any questions so far?"

Everyone shook their heads and Flitwick continued, "Very good. Now, everyone open their books to the chapter on Enchantments and we'll get started."

After Flitwick described what they were trying to accomplish, everyone began to work on their own. They were each given a round glass lens, similar to that of a magnifying glass, and were to place an Identifying Enchantment on it. If successful, any writing viewed through the lens would appear in the language of the viewer.

Harry picked it up fairly quickly, having worked with some Enchantments at Grimmauld Place. He accomplished it halfway through the class, rather proud of himself. He used his lens to read a passage in his book, written in Cataln, and placed there for that very purpose. After he had finished, he worked with Parvati and Lavender, who were clearly struggling. Harry was able to explain it in a more understandable way than the book and both girls successfully cast the spells by the end of the class period.

About half of the rest of the class were able to do it as well. Hermione finished shortly before Harry and Ron finished shortly after (with some help from Hermione). Neville shattered his lens almost immediately, but figured it out on his second attempt. Susan Bones had somehow managed to make her lens glow bright blue and shoot off white sparks whenever she tried to touch it. It would have been amazing enough on its own, but then Blaise Zabini did the exact same thing a few minutes later.

When class finally ended, Professor Flitwick was very pleased at the progress made by the group. Harry began packing his things as he watched Ron and Hermione exit the room. Next to him Lavender stood up and headed for the door, but Parvati stayed behind.

"Thanks again, Harry," she whispered to him. Harry simply nodded, and she stood up. "See you this afternoon in Defense," she added.

"See you," Harry said and she headed out. Everyone had left the room now, save for Flitwick. Not in the mood to get caught up in a conversation with his Professor, Harry grabbed his bag and left, heading for the library.

.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.

Harry spent the rest of the morning and lunchtime talking with Ron. He was surprised how easily they had slipped back into their friendship after not talking for so long. They talked about trying to get a group like the DA back together again. Ron was keen to hear some of Harry's ideas on what to teach.

Their first class of the afternoon was Defence Against the Dark Arts. Harry, again, sat in the back of the classroom, this time with Neville. They talked about their work in Charms from earlier in the morning. Neville was very fascinated by the subject of Enchantments, and several times mentioned how glad he was that McGonagall had encouraged him to take the N.E.W.T. level course.

The entire class was present by now, and they were just waiting for the professor. Harry was a little anxious to meet him, as he hadn't seen anyone new walking around the castle in the few days he had been there.

A few minutes later, right before class was set to start, the door finally opened and their professor stepped in. He wasn't at all what Harry had expected. This man had dark red hair (a far shade from the Weasleys) that was thinning slightly in the back, and he had a full beard of the same colour. He had the build of a very fit man who had recently let himself get out of shape. His robes were charcoal black and a tiny rose with bright red petals was pinned to his lapel. Harry gained an immediate level of respect for this man. His entire appearance was neat and clean, and the way he carried himself spoke of immense pride.

Their professor made his way to the desk and started taking role. He, like Flitwick, also paused at Harry's name. "Ah, Mr. Potter! The Headmistress informed me that you would be joining us. It's good to have you with us."

"Thank you sir," Harry replied kindly.

"I suppose I should introduce myself. I am, of course, your Defense professor, Charles Lancaster, Order of Merlin, Third Class. We have a very busy day today, so you must forgive me for leaving it at that." He then added, "Should you like to know more, please feel free to see me after class or any time I'm in my office."

Harry simply nodded in acknowledgement. This new professor already proved to be a change for the better from their spotty record so far. This man, Lancaster, looked like he knew what he was doing, and he seemed polite and friendly, but also confident and assured.

Lancaster began opening books and removing papers from his desk, while the rest of the class followed suit, opening their Defense books. "Mr. Potter," he addressed Harry again, "we're halfway through studying dark artifacts, so I hope you don't mind jumping in right in the middle."

"I can keep up, sir," Harry replied positively. He suppressed a grin as he thought about what he had been doing the entire time he was at Grimmauld Place. The fact that he had already read through his textbooks was helpful, but it was even more so to have 'hands-on' experience.

Harry sat through the lesson, paying close attention and taking notes. Their discussion coincided nicely with the morning's lesson on Enchantments. Lancaster discussed some of the more advanced spells on detecting Enchantments on an object, and the nature of such Enchantments that would make them considered 'dark'.

Throughout the lesson, Harry couldn't help but notice how odd everyone had been acting toward him. Not to say they were acting differently than normal, but he expected to be bombarded with questions all day long. Questions like 'where have you been?' and 'how come you're back?' and 'what have you been up to?' It was certainly unusual.

"Now, for your assignment," Lancaster said, wrapping things up, "I want you to go through your books and find six Charms that, when placed on an object, would classify it as Dark, and then give me a brief description on each on. A foot and a half of parchment will suffice. Any questions?"

Dean Thomas raised his hand and asked, "Do you have our assignments from last week for us?"

Lancaster shook his head. "I'm sorry Mr. Thomas, but due to the events of last weekend, I was unable to complete my grading of them." Harry noticed his professor glance at him for a split-second before adding, "But rest assured, I will have them for you when we meet on Thursday. If that's all… then you're dismissed."

Harry began packing up his things, happy that they had gotten off so lightly with their homework. He didn't have any more classes today, and with any luck, he could finish the assignment before dinner. He even considered working in the library. With no one bothering him, he wouldn't have to spend all his free time in his room.

"Hey Neville," Harry said, now that the lesson was over, "What's wrong with everyone? I figured they'd all be bugging me about where I've been."

"Oh, right," Neville said, seemingly caught off guard by the question. "Well, some of us spread the word around not to bother you, and not to question you about stuff that isn't any of their business."

"Oh." Harry was slightly taken aback by his friends' thoughtfulness. "Well, I appreciate it. You didn't threaten anyone, did you?"

Neville hesitated for a moment. "Well… you know how some of them can be. They're a little thick headed."

Harry was about to admonish him, but he then thought of people like Zacharias Smith. "Yeah, I guess you're right," he said.

"By the way, now that you're here at Hogwarts, do you want your mirror back?" Neville asked.

"No, you can hang on to it for now," Harry told him. "I don't really have another use for it, and you can never be too safe."

"That's true."

"But thanks for keeping me updated on what was going on while I was gone," Harry said, remembering all the conversations he had had with Neville over the past months.

"No problem. I was just happy to help." Neville then added, "It was pretty boring without you around to stir everything up."

Harry and Neville both laughed. "You know, you're the second person to tell me that since I've been back."

"Well, it _is_ true," Neville replied. "Ready to go?" he asked, standing up and grabbing his bag.

"You go ahead, I'm gonna stay and talk to Lancaster," Harry said.

"All right. See you at dinner."

Neville left, leaving the room empty except for Harry and his professor. Harry finished screwing the cap back on his inkpot and tossed it in his bag before standing up and approaching the front of the class. Lancaster was frowning over some papers and scribbling furiously. Harry wasn't keen on interrupting him, but didn't know when he would have another opportunity to talk.

"Excuse me, Professor?" he asked, cutting through Lancaster's mumbles.

He looked and broke into a wide grin. "Ah, right, Mr. Potter. I assume you wish to know more about me? I apologise again for being so brief at the beginning of class."

"Don't worry about it," Harry said.

"Please, sit down," Lancaster said, indicating to the empty desk right in front of his own. "So, where to begin… well, I graduated from Hogwarts back in the fifties. Gryffindor, of course."

Harry had figured that. He was pretty certain that you could be the head of a house if you hadn't been sorted into that house.

"After that," Lancaster went on, "I traveled for several years, picking up various bits of knowledge here and there. You see, I always wanted to teach, and it was something that I could pursue. I'm from a very, very old family, and we had enough money so that I would never need to work. Well, teaching jobs don't pay all that well, but as most people will tell you, you don't do it for the money."

"Then how come you've never come here before now?" Harry asked.

"Who's to say I didn't?" Lancaster replied. "No, I came back after traveling and met with Dumbledore. But Defence Against the Dark Arts is my area of expertise, and I was warned that the position was cursed. Well I didn't want any part of that."

"So you never got to teach until now?"

"No, I did. Just not here," he answered. "I left the island again to pursue a teaching job, but I never managed to stay at one place for to long. About ten years at Beauxbatons and then in several of the smaller magical schools across the continent and over in the Colonies.

"Though I did come back briefly, around twenty years ago, on Dumbledore's urging. To help with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. No need to tell you, if it's something Dumbledore can't handle on his own, it's quite serious. And that it was. The fighting was vicious, and it was a losing battle. That is, until he got to you."

Harry merely nodded. "So then," he asked, "you left again?"

"Didn't really have a choice. This position was still cursed. And Dumbledore knew it. He knew that Voldemort wasn't gone." Lancaster sat back in his chair and sighed deeply. "Well, McGonagall contacted me over the summer… I had already heard about Dumbledore by this time. Anyway, she was desperate. Said I was the school's last hope, said you all were desperately behind. Well, I decided to come back, if only for a year. I knew that if Dumbledore hadn't died, it would have been him asking me."

Harry remained silent, going over what he had just heard. After a few minutes, Lancaster turned the conversation around.

"So Mr. Potter, you know a little about me. Perhaps you would permit me to ask you a few questions?"

Fortunately Harry was expecting this, or he might have been caught off guard. "I'll answer what I can sir," he said.

Lancaster nodded. "Well, I guess the biggest thing is where have you been all term?"

Again, this was what Harry was expecting. "Working to defeat Voldemort," he answered evenly. "Doing a lot of research really. The nature of which was _very_ secret. I'm afraid I can't tell you much more than that."

"I understand," Lancaster said, smiling. "Anything to bring down Voldemort is important and I won't be the one to ruin any chances of that."

"Thank you sir," Harry said. He paused for a moment and briefly glanced over his professor's surface thoughts. With this discussion of Voldemort, Harry was able to find out exactly where Lancaster's loyalties were. As he had expected, the man in front of him was completely against Voldemort and the Dark Arts in general. Harry smiled to himself, glad that he seemed to have another ally, and possibly someone to confide in on other matters. Lancaster might not know about Horcruxes, but he was definitely knowledgeable on Dark artifacts.

"But other than that," Harry went on, "I've been keeping up with my subjects, in the hopes that I'd be able to come back."

Their discussion continued on for only a few more minutes before Harry decided he needed to leave. He still wanted to write his essay so he would have time after dinner to look through the library. Without any Death Eaters to hunt down, he was in for a long night of studying. He'd never missed having Hermione around more.

.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.

A/N- A bit shorter than recent chapters, but there wasn't that much that needed to happen. For those that are interested, I've had this story planned out before I started writing, and it's about twelve twenty-fifths complete. So, I've had some reviews concerning the characterization of Harry and I thought I would explain a little. When I started writing, I wanted my story to be, for the most part, within the limits set by Rowling's books. My Harry has matured a lot since the end of book six, but he's still basically the same person. Granted, he's grown a lot magically and intellectually, and he as much more confidence. But he's not super!Harry, not as wise as Dumbledore or as clever as Snape. He hasn't all of the sudden become a murder, and he's not going to kill in cold blood. Remember what Dumbledore said in book six about "the incomparable power of a soul that is untarnished and whole". And I think that's going to be a big part of book seven. So Harry isn't going to stoop to Voldemort's level. As for the relationships, I'll write about that at the end of the next chapter. Chapter thirteen is one of the first things I wrote, and it's mostly about Harry and Hermione, so it would be a good time to answer some of the questions. It's probably halfway done right now, so it hopefully won't take too long to post. Also, I changed the title… let's see how long it takes me to get tired of this one.


	13. Reconciliation

**Chapter 13**

**Reconciliation**

Things quickly fell into a groove for Harry now that he had returned to Hogwarts. He got used to going to classes, eating meals at certain times, and being around groups of people, many of which who were not above staring shamelessly at him.

Classes weren't as difficult as he had expected, considering it was his N.E.W.T. year. Despite keeping up with his curriculum, the other studying and training he had done in his time away proved very beneficial. He was surprised that he knew all the answers to the questions his professors raised.

Of course, he only managed to keep up in Potions by returning to the Room of Requirement and retrieving his copy of _Advanced Potion-Making_. The Half-Blood Prince's notes helped him to keep his marks up and to remain one of Slughorn's favourites, whether that was a good thing or not. However, he noticed that, thanks to his book, he was starting to understand potion-making better. Snape's old notes helped clarify many things the original text was vague on, and he eventually found himself relying less and less on the book's tips.

Also, contrary to his previous thoughts, Harry had plenty of time to research in the library on the Horcruxes he was looking for. There were many more sources than the library at Grimmauld Place, and he was finding heaps of useful information. Though he still hadn't found anything on creating a Horcrux, he read all about the four founders, their background and some artifacts they were known to have, as well as some history of Voldemort. Harry got many ideas of where to search by learning what all Voldemort had been doing and where he had been in the years leading up to his 'demise'. Between Dumbledore's memories, and the history books he found, he had drawn out a fairly detailed timeline of everything Voldemort had done since learning about Horcruxes.

Though, while most things seemed to be going well for him, he still wasn't as comfortable in Hogwarts as he would have liked. Hermione still seemed to want nothing to do with him. He wanted to do something, but he had no idea what. It didn't seem like she wanted to forgive him. Harry couldn't blame her, but it continued to hurt every time they shared a class or passed each other in the hall.

It continued on for a while like that. Harry decided to focus his energy on something he could control. Namely defeating Voldemort. Not to say it would be easy, but at least he could do something about that.

.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.

Hermione couldn't take it anymore.

She thought she might be able to get past what had happened with her parents by not seeing Harry every day, but him simply being in the castle brought those feelings flooding back. All the anger and sorrow hadn't disappeared at all. It had merely been pushed down, but now was as unbearable as it had ever been.

She wanted to get past it and be friends with Harry again. But every time she saw him, or even thought about him, her thoughts immediately turned to her parents. And how she would never see them again.

She needed Harry to suffer like she had suffered. She needed him to feel the same kind of emotional torment she was feeling. For some reason, she felt that was the only way to move on. And she had an idea on how to do it.

It was nearing eleven o'clock and Hermione knew that Harry would be in his room. She suspended her Head Girl duties for the moment and made her way down to the sixth floor. Fortunately, she didn't run into anyone along the way and soon found herself at her destination. After casting a Disillusionment Charm on herself, she knocked on the door and waited, wand in hand.

Harry didn't even have time to react: as soon as he opened the door, Hermione said, "_Legilimens,_" and she was inside his mind.

Hermione had read a lot on the subject and was confident she could properly sift through Harry's thoughts. As soon as the spell hit him, she focused her mind on what she was looking for. The rush of images flashing on the back of her eyes slowed and became clearer as she narrowed her search: _things he fears, things he regrets, things he wish never happened._

She had difficulty concentrating, but knew it was working when she started watching scenes playing like films in her mind. With each scene, she felt something deep inside her, obviously the emotion that Harry was feeling when each event took place.

_He was much younger, sitting huddled in a cupboard that was clearly his room, while a man yelled at him through the vent…_

There was a break, and then another memory played forth.

_He was in his first year, standing alone against Quirrell, who had just revealed Voldemort's face on the back of his head. His scar was burning worse than it ever had before…_

_He was in his second year, alone again, in the Chamber of Secrets, fighting the basilisk. He had felt completely helpless until a phoenix gouged out the snake's eyes. He was still terrified trying to fight it, but stood his ground. The pain was unbearable when the giant fang pierced his arm, and he felt himself slipping away, positive that he would die…_

_It was now in his third year and he was down by the lake, standing over Sirius' crumpled form while hundreds of Dementors swooped down on him. Hermione had just passed out next to him as he desperately tried to summon enough happiness. He couldn't escape his father ordering his mother to leave and his mother screaming, begging with Voldemort not to kill him. He was filled with despair and hopelessness as his Patronus failed and slowly lost consciousness, certain that his soul was lost…_

At this point, Harry had fallen to his hands and knees, shaking, but Hermione held the connection.

_It was their fourth year. Harry just woke up from a scene of Voldemort plotting his murder, terrified…_

_He was shouting at Ron, angry and saddened that his best friend didn't trust him and was jealous of __**his**__ life. He couldn't bear not having Ron to talk to, especially with the entire school against him…_

_He was thoroughly confused as he looked around the graveyard, Cedric next to him. "Kill the spare," rang out through the darkness, followed by, "Avada Kedavra!" He gazed, horrified, into Cedric's dull, lifeless eyes as he lay slumped on the ground. _

_His parents' traitor jabbed a knife into his arm. The sharp pains were nothing, though, compared to what he was witnessing. He watched, in disbelief, as Voldemort was resurrected, begging and begging that something had gone wrong. Death Eaters filled the area and he knew he wouldn't escape. Voldemort reached out and touched him… the pain in his scar was blinding and he was sickened at the thought of his own blood flowing through Voldemort's body…_

_He was put under the Cruciatis Curse and writhed in pain as every single one of his nerves was on fire…_

_He was forced to duel with the greatest dark lord the world had ever seen. He knew for sure that this time, he would not survive…_

Harry was now on the floor, curled into a ball and still shaking, but Hermione couldn't let go. She was horrified at what she was seeing, and didn't want to watch any more, but at the same time, she was unable to stop.

_In their fifth year, he stared at Umbridge, disgusted and horrified as the back of his hand burned…_

_He had to describe the attack on Mr. Weasley to Ron, Ginny, Fred, and George, and was revolted at the thought that __**he **__had been the attacker…_

_He gazed at Hermione's limp body in the Department of Mysteries, pleading that she was alive…_

_He was petrified as Sirius slowly fell beyond the veil and enraged that no one would help him and every one saying he was gone. He felt no restraint as he cast the Cruciatus Curse on Bellatrix, though later felt disgusted with himself…_

_He destroyed anything in Dumbledore's office that he could get his hands on, and then listened in disbelief as Dumbledore recited the prophecy that marked him as either a murderer, or a victim_

Hermione couldn't bear much more of this, but somehow, she couldn't let go.

_It was now his sixth year. Harry used the Sectumsempra Curse on Malfoy, immediately lamenting his choice, as Draco slowly bled to death…_

_He was appalled with himself as he poured the potion into Dumbledore's mouth, the old man begged him to stop…_

_He was completely helpless as he watched Snape kill Dumbledore in cold blood. He felt hatred bubble up inside him as he chased down the man who murdered the greatest wizard in history. It was hate like he had never experienced before, and tried using the Cruciatis Curse on Snape…_

_He read the article about Hermione's parents in disbelief before throwing up. The anguish was nothing compared to the single instant when Hermione struck him, realising he may have lost her friendship forever…_

"Enough!" she heard Harry's voice out loud just before she was pushed out of his mind. She stumbled backwards and fell to the floor.

Harry was up on his hands and knees again, gasping for air while sweat and tears fell from his face. He was still shaking slightly, though visibly trying to calm himself.

"So," he managed to get out, "find what you were looking for?"

Hermione couldn't answer, petrified with fear at what she had just seen. She had heard about everything Harry had been through, but his stories only scratched the surface of the horrors he had faced. She couldn't stop the tears from flowing from her own eyes, disgusted with herself at what she had just done.

She had intended to make him relive his worst memories, hoping to get some satisfaction from putting him through what he did to her. However, she had no idea how horrible his past had been. Without a word, she stood up and ran, not knowing where she was headed.

.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.

It took Harry a few minutes to pull himself together. He had never had to experience all the traumatic events of his past at once like that. Once he was ready, he set off to find Hermione.

It didn't take him long to locate her. In fact, she was in one of the first places he looked. He stepped out onto the hard stone of the Astronomy tower and was met with a cool autumn breeze. The sky was perfectly clear and thousands of stars twinkled in the inky black night.

Hermione was several feet away, sitting on the parapet and sobbing silently. She was looking down at the grounds below and didn't hear Harry approach. Harry didn't want to startle her, so he walked up and leaned against one of the nearby merlons. She looked up for a second and fresh tears started flowing.

"I used to come up here a lot last year," Harry said, looking off to the horizon. "After he died. I just couldn't believe he was really gone… I thought, being up here, I might find some answers."

Hermione remained silent, and Harry continued. "I found them, but they weren't what I was looking for," he told her. Hermione had abandoned trying to dry her eyes and merely attempted to keep her breathing steady. "I realised that, until Voldemort was gone, I couldn't have any emotional attachments. If I did, he would find a way to exploit them, and cause me to do something stupid or reckless.

"That's why I tried so hard to ignore whatever it was I felt for you. I knew Voldemort could reopen the connection at anytime. Hermione, I'm so sorry… I never meant for it to happen. You have no idea how bad I felt, and still feel. It shouldn't have happened… it was entirely my fault, and I don't deserve your friendship. I just want you to know… that I'm sorry." Harry finished and got up to leave.

He was halfway to the door when Hermione finally spoke up. "You're wrong," she said, barely more than a whisper. Harry stopped and looked back at her, slightly shocked by the first words she had spoken to him in several months. She was still looking down to the grounds far below, but Harry was simply happy that she was talking to him.

Hermione sniffed loudly before continuing. "I _do_ know how you felt. I was just there, remember?" she told him, still speaking softly. "There was no excuse for what I did. I just… I don't know… I'm such a fool. I just wanted you to feel the same pain I felt. I thought it would help."

Harry hadn't moved from his spot near the door as he listened. "I know," he said, "that's why I didn't stop you."

Hermione gazed back at Harry and, for the first time, looked him right in the eyes. "What?" she asked, her face full of confusion.

"I could've stopped you if I wanted to. I've become a very adept Occlumens," explained Harry.

"Then why didn't you? I doubt you enjoyed it."

"No. I didn't enjoy it at all," he told her, "but if suffering through that is what it takes to for you to forgive me, then I'll do it as many times as I have to."

Hermione couldn't hold back anymore and started sobbing uncontrollably. "I th-thought that would make me feel b-better, but it j-just made it worse," she confessed, looking away. "I'm a horrible p-person."

"You're not-"

"Yes! I am," she cut him off forcefully. "There's no excuse for what I did. Nobody deserves to even _have_ the past you've had, l-let alone be f-forced to relive it."

"I already told you, I wasn't forced, I allowed you to probe my mind," Harry told her, slowly walking back to her. "Whatever it takes to earn your forgiveness, I'll do it."

The sound of Hermione crying was painful to Harry. He hated seeing her like this, and hated that she was shedding tears over him. He sat down on the battlements next to her, one leg hanging over the side of the wall.

Hermione looked up, gazing out over the forest, and whispered, "I do."

"What?"

She turned and faced him, and said slightly louder, "I forgive you."

Harry's heart skipped a beat at these words, the words he had been longing to hear for so long. It must have shown on his face, for the corner of Hermione's mouth turned up slightly.

"No, that's not true. I don't forgive you," Hermione said. Harry frowned at her, but she went on, "I don't forgive you because you didn't do anything wrong. I know there was nothing you could have done, Harry. After what I saw earlier, I knew I couldn't blame you. And _you _shouldn't blame you. I guess it helped at first, but I knew, deep down, that you would have done all you could to protect them. After all, nothing has ever kept you from protecting Ron and I."

"And nothing ever will," said Harry.

With that, Hermione did something she hadn't done since Harry's birthday. She smiled. An actual, genuine smile. Harry's heart fluttered at the beauty of it.

"I just hope _you_ can forgive _me_ for how I treated you. And what I did tonight," Hermione told him, looking back down to the grounds.

"You don't even have to ask."

"I'm so ashamed… I don't know what I was thinking," confessed Hermione. "I guess it wouldn't help to Obliviate you and make you forget what I did."

"Well, you've seen the things I'm most ashamed of, so we're even," Harry said, putting a hand on her shoulder.

"Like Bellatrix?" she asked, looking back at him.

He looked away, not able to meet here eyes. He hadn't told anyone about that incident, save for Dumbledore's portrait, and hoped he would never have to. But, he realised it might help him to talk about it with someone.

"Harry?"

Harry nodded. "It was right after she killed Sirius… and I wanted to kill her. I chased her back to the atrium, and then… It didn't even work, though. She said righteous anger would hurt her for long. But that didn't make it any easier to live with."

Hermione could clearly tell that he was disgusted with himself and she tried to comfort him. "Harry, you're only human. You have emotions."

"But I should be able to control them better. You saw all the stuff I did… I'm no better than a Death Eater."

"Harry, all that stuff with Bellatrix, and Malfoy, and Snape, anyone who's been through what you have would do the same," Hermione told him. "You're not a saint. The fact that you feel remorse over what happened is what sets you _apart_ from Voldemort!"

Harry pondered this for several minutes before speaking again. "I've really missed having you to talk to," he said. "You know, every time I hear my conscience, it sounds just like you. I guess you're the biggest voice of reason in my life."

Hermione smiled lightly and wiped her eyes again. "It's good to know I can do my job even when I'm not around," she joked.

Harry chuckled softly. "C'mon," he said, standing up and offering her his hand. "Let's take a walk."

.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.

Harry and Hermione had walked down through the school and out the front doors to the grounds, talking the whole time. He caught her up on what he had been doing since the summer. She listened intently as he described his trip to the Riddle Manor, his tracking down the real locket, the memories of Snape and their subsequent alliance, all of it.

She, in turn, told Harry about various things she had done recently. She went in to detail about her relationship with Ron and how it had been for the best when they broke it off. Harry was also surprised to hear that McGonagall had offered Hermione the chance to teach the first, second, and third year Transfiguration classes. Even though she turned it down (likely because she would need to spend so much time studying for N.E.W.T.'s) it was quite remarkable. Harry knew McGonagall was overwhelmed with all the duties she now had, and it's not like Hermione would be more than qualified to handle it, but it was still unprecedented.

Harry was thoroughly enjoying the chance to catch up with Hermione, still somewhat awed that she was even talking to him.

"We weren't even that close, you know," she said as they started their second time around the lake. "My parents and I."

Harry had hoped the conversation wouldn't turn to this, but it was almost inevitable.

"I rarely ever saw them since I started here," she went on. "Save for a couple Christmases and a few weeks every summer. We were never that close to begin with, and we seemed to drift apart once I got my Hogwarts letter."

"They were still your parents," Harry muttered, watching his shoes as he walked. "That doesn't make what happened any easier."

"Harry, please," she said, almost begging. "I'm not trying to make you feel better, and I shouldn't have to, because you did nothing wrong. I'm merely saying that I shouldn't have taken it so hard."

Harry looked over at her and she said, "I know, that sounds horrible. It's just… I don't know… I've always been independent. They worked all the time, so I had to rely on myself. Maybe that's why I study so much."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked.

"Well, I don't think I have to tell you that growing up I didn't have a lot of friends. Oh, don't give me that look," she said, smiling. "Anyway, I didn't have friends so I used to read a lot. I thought if I was really smart or really good at something, then people might like me more. As soon as I got my Hogwarts letter, I began learning all our books. I didn't want people to think I was some 'foolish Muggleborn' that had no clue about the wizarding world."

"Well, I think you should allow people to get to know the real you," Harry told her. "Trust me, it's much better."

Hermione nodded thoughtfully at Harry's words. They walked on in silence for a few minutes, Harry thinking about what she had just said. After all that had happened, the way she spoke now, it seemed like her parents' deaths weren't bothering her. If what she had said about their relationship was true, then it would be possible for her to cope with it more easily. That was something Harry could understand, never having known his parents. That's not to say Harry didn't miss them or wish he had known them though.

In Hermione's case, Harry understood that her relationship with her parents was likely not as distant as she led him to believe. Though he wouldn't dare sift through her thoughts without her permission, Harry still knew that she was exaggerating to stop him from feeling bad. He could tell she was still hurting, but was hiding it to make it absolutely clear that she didn't blame him. Despite the situation, Harry still appreciated the gesture.

"You know," he stared, "if we make it through this year alive—" Hermione raised an admonishing eyebrow at him, "—and you need a place to stay, you're more than welcome to come to Grimmauld Place. I've got plenty of room."

Her face softened when he finished. "Oh, Harry… that's really sweet, but I don't think I could impose," she said meekly.

"You wouldn't," he said simply. "I insist. Maybe I'll invite Ron as well. No doubt Mrs. Weasley will boot him out of the Burrow as soon as he graduates," Harry joked.

"That's right, we'll be on our own," Hermione whispered, having momentarily forgotten they were in their final year. "Well, I suppose I could. At least until I get a job and a place of my own," she relented.

As if the night hadn't been odd enough, she then did something Harry would have never expected. While they walked along, Hermione reached over and grabbed Harry's hand, locking her fingers with his. It wasn't in a romantic way, more the way a brother and sister would hold hands when crossing the street. Still, Harry was initially shocked, but found it oddly comfortable and appropriate.

Harry forced his mind back on track. "Though, Dobby has taken to following me where ever I go," he said as if nothing had just happened, "so he would likely be there." Harry was talking, of course, about her fanatic belief in house elves' rights and her tireless work to free them.

Though Dobby _was _a free elf, he still saw fit to mention it. He almost mouthed along with her when she responded, "So long as you pay him."

It wasn't long before their conversation returned to current events. Hermione was rather shocked when Harry first told her he was working with Snape. Granted, anyone that knew anything about Harry or Snape would think the idea of the two of them helping each other was ridiculous. So, naturally, Hermione wanted to know more.

"It's just so hard to believe. You trusting Snape," she said.

Harry scoffed at this. "I never said I trusted him. I don't trust him at all."

Hermione looked at him, puzzled. "But what about the Pensieve?"

"That just showed me enough to know that he's not working solely for Voldemort. From the looks of it, he's working for himself," he told her. "His little sob story in the Hog's Head wasn't the reason Dumbledore trusted him. It was something else."

"I guess," Hermione agreed. "So why are you working with him? Aren't you afraid he'll turn you over, or give you false information?"

"Not really," said Harry, shaking his head. "He needs me as much as I need him. Turns out him killing Dumbledore made Voldemort very angry."

"But isn't that what he planned?" Hermione asked.

"He planned for Dumbledore to die, but not for Snape to kill him," explained Harry. "If Snape hadn't, he would still be here at the school and able to spy on the Order. Now he's back in that position, and he won't do anything to compromise it, until the very end." He then added, "See, Snape's very clever. Having heard the prophecy, he has no idea who is going to win. So he'll play both sides until he's sure which one will come out on top."

Hermione seemed to understand perfectly. "He's not going to take the risk of trying to force one side over the other. He'll just wait." Harry nodded. "That reminds me," she went on, "what ever happened to Malfoy?"

It was a good question. One that Harry never bothered to ask Snape. "Hiding somewhere, I guess. He can't go back to Voldemort, they'll kill him. And we'll lock him up. He fled with Snape so I assume Snape will know."

Hermione looked like she was going to say something, but stopped. She fell silent and seemed to regret even bringing it up.

"Hermione?"

"I'm so sorry, Harry," she said. He was about to ask what she was talking about, but Hermione went on, "For not believing you last year about Malfoy. If I had listened, none of this would have happened. If-"

Harry quickly cut her off before she could continue. "Forget about it. It's in the past now, and nothing can change it," he told her, rather more forcefully than he wanted to. "Besides," he added gently, "Dumbledore didn't listen to me either so it wouldn't have mattered anyway."

"Maybe…"

"Speaking of Malfoy," Harry went on, "I learned something from Snape that might interest you." He paused for a moment, and then added, "It might also anger you."

"What is it?" she asked, her curiosity piqued.

"Well…" Harry started, not sure how to explain without setting off Hermione. "Remember our first Potions lesson with Slughorn? And we discovered Malfoy had stolen some of the Polyjuice Potion?" Hermione nodded. "Well, it turns out he had nicked some of another potion."

Hermione frowned, clearly trying to remember what other potions were present that day. Then, her eyes suddenly widened, and she gasped. "Oh no! Not the Veritaserum? Harry, what did we tell him?"

"No, no, not that," Harry told her, shaking his head and removing her fears. "He didn't need any information from us. Didn't really need any luck either," he added, thinking back to how well Malfoy's plan to kill Dumbledore had worked.

"So not Felix Felicis," Hermione thought out loud. "Then… what, the Amortentia?" After getting a positive response from Harry, she went on, rather confused. "But why would he need that? And what does it have to do with me?"

"You and me, actually," said Harry. "See, Malfoy didn't want anyone interfering with his plans. And… well, he remembered how the three of us always seem to be on the lookout for him." Hermione still couldn't figure out where Harry was going, so he continued, "And he needed a way to keep us, uh… 'occupied', and out of his hair."

After a few seconds, Hermione's eyes widened again in realisation. "He didn't!" she gasped in disbelief.

"I'm afraid he did," Harry told her, unable to keep a hint of anger from his voice.

"But—but how? How did he… how could he have—" she stammered.

"He had the house elves slip it into our food all year," Harry explained. "And it worked, didn't it? If we hadn't been so caught up with such trivial things, we could have figured out where he was and what he was up to so much sooner."

Hermione quickly changed from shocked to furious. "I—I can't believe it…" She nearly screamed out in frustration.

Harry incorrectly figured her anger to be directed at Malfoy. "Look, Hermione, we can find him and turn him over to the Ministry. He shouldn't go unpunished."

"No, it's not that," Hermione said, seething. She took a few moments to calm herself and then sighed heavily. "It's not Malfoy," she explained, "it's me. The way I acted last year… I put you and Ron through all of that, for nothing."

"But it wasn't your fault," said Harry.

Hermione went on as if she hadn't heard him. "I should have known better. Everything I felt… I should have known it was all a lie. I should have known—"

"Hermione," Harry stopped her, "you couldn't have known. There was nothing you could have done." Once she stopped babbling, Harry told her, "Look, I felt the same way. Whenever I was around Ginny, I felt like there was this… this monster inside me, and I could only calm it once I was with her."

"Yeah, it was sort of the same with me," Hermione said. "I was so stupid… I thought that was how love was supposed to feel." She seemed to grow saddened with this revelation. Harry noticed and felt a small pang of guilt, wondering whether or not he should have even brought it up. "Ron will be crushed if he finds out it was all fake. The first time I experience love, and it's not even real."

"I'm sorry Hermione," Harry said consolingly, "but nothing can simulate actual love. Just infatuation. And, in our cases, a whole lot of jealousy."

Hermione smiled weakly. "I was pretty awful to everyone, wasn't I? So what made you and I so lucky?"

Harry shrugged and said, "No need for anyone else, I guess. Ron already had feelings for you. And Ginny already did for me."

"Makes sense, I suppose," Hermione agreed. "But it's still a despicable thing to do. And illegal."

"Malfoy's wronged us a lot in the past, but I have a hard time staying angry with him," Harry said. "Don't get me wrong, most of the time I want to beat him until I can't lift my arms," he added at the look of disbelief Hermione was giving him. "He was a bloody bastard—"

"Harry!"

"—to us when he was at Hogwarts, and I won't forget that. But I also won't forget the fact that he couldn't kill Dumbledore." Hermione was still glaring at him for his choice of words. "What? You know it's true," he added.

She merely sighed and shook her head, muttering something that sound suspiciously like, "Boys." Harry just chuckled at her. "So," she said after a moment, "you think Malfoy has changed?"

"Not changed," Harry answered. "I just think there was more to him than we saw." Hermione looked at him in anticipation, expecting Harry to continue. "Well, I'm just guessing here, and it's all based on one incident… it's possible that Malfoy was forced into Voldemort's service. I mean, we all knew he would be a Death Eater, because of how he acted, but maybe his father warped his mind with his beliefs. And when it suddenly became real, Malfoy realised what he was getting in to." He then added, "Of course, it's all just conjecture."

"It makes a lot of sense," Hermione said. "Not that I want to make excuses for him, but it definitely seems like there are more levels to Malfoy."

Harry sighed deeply. "I'm starting to sound like Dumbledore," he said. "Second chances, and all that. Don't get me wrong, it's likely he's the same git he's always been."

"Well, he may have some good deep, deep down, but that doesn't erase what he did," she told him. "Especially using a love potion on us."

Harry couldn't help but agree. There was a reason love potions were illegal. Hermione seemed to be thinking the same thing, and voiced her opinion. "I mean, it's almost like using the Imperius Curse, isn't it? And besides, who know who else we might have dated in that time…"

She left her words hanging in the air, and Harry suddenly felt very uncomfortable. They continued walking around the lake, though Harry had fallen silent. He looked out over the surface of the water and watched the moonlight reflecting off it. The full moon would come in a few days, and Harry wondered how Remus was doing.

Unfortunately for Harry, Hermione's mind wasn't wandering. He felt her turn her head towards him but Harry continued looking at the sparkling water. He heard Hermione draw in short breaths as if she was trying to say something, but couldn't find the words. "You love me, Harry," she finally said.

Harry couldn't tell if it was a question or a statement, but his mouth was suddenly very dry. His palm was starting to sweat against hers, and he tried to let go but Hermione just squeezed his hand tighter. "You do," she said again. "Maybe not in a romantic way, but you _do _love me." Harry started to shake his head but Hermione stopped him, "Trust me, Harry. I mean, you… you killed for me."

"Don't!" Harry nearly shouted, immediately finding his voice. "Don't you dare bring that up," he hissed, feeling himself flush with anger. This was the absolute last thing he wanted to talk about. He had managed the conversation with Dumbledore's portrait by reminding himself that it wasn't a real person and was incapable of judgment. But now that Hermione brought it up, the discussion seemed unavoidable.

"But Harry—" she started but he cut her off again

"I said 'no'!" This time he did shout. Harry had learned to control his emotions fairly well, but this particular topic easily disproved that. "Don't stand there and talk like I did something noble and heroic. I killed another human being."

"To save me!" Hermione said, raising her voice as well. "There was nothing else you could have done, Harry, you and I both know that. Of course it wasn't righteous _or_ easy, but you still did it."

"That doesn't change the fact that another wizard is dead and it is entirely my fault!"

"If you hadn't killed him, he would have killed me!"

They had both stopped walking and were facing each other, Hermione with a pleading look in her eyes. Harry was breathing heavily from his anger and frustration. He felt the corners of his eyes stinging, but forced himself to relax and got his emotions under control.

"I m sure you've read stories," he eventually said in a low voice, "stories about great warriors, fighting and killing in battle. Well there is _nothing_ glorious about it. I still have nightmares every night."

"I'm so sorry, Harry."

He looked down at the ground, shaking his head. "It was the hardest thing I've ever had to do. It's not something I would never wish on anyone."

"Just remember why you did it," Hermione said when Harry looked up. "I don't think any less of you. You did something so difficult in order to save me."

Harry paused for a moment before nodding in defeat. "Of course… I couldn't let anything happen to you, Hermione."

"Because you love me," she explained. "Just like you love Ron and Ginny, and all the Weasleys. And Sirius and Remus. I'm sure you would have done the same for any of them."

"I suppose you're right," Harry said. "But why did you bring this up?"

Hermione hesitated for several minutes, as if deep in thought. "Because I know what it's like," she said. "Growing up with the Dursleys, I assume you weren't exposed to a lot of love. That can make it hard to understand such a concept." She stopped, searching for the right words. "My parents loved me, but they worked a lot and were rarely ever around, so it was hard for me. Plus my only boyfriend turned out to be fake, so I don't have much experience with that."

"I understand," Harry told her. He then muttered to himself, "so maybe that's why Dumbledore forced me to stay with the Dursleys."

"What was that?" asked Hermione.

"Well… it's kinda funny, isn't it? The power the prophecy says I have so much of is love. I guess I didn't need it from anywhere else," he said with a half-hearted smile. He then sighed and said, "…completely filled with love, yet I don't know a thing about it."

Harry sat down on the soft grass near the edge of the lake and let out another sigh. "You're right though," he said as Hermione sat down next to him. "I do love you. Maybe not romantically, but still," he added. When Hermione didn't say anything, he went on, with apparent difficulty. "I… I care about you. A lot. You've always stuck by me, no matter what was going on, and you've always done your best to keep me out of trouble. You're the only person that's always seen me as just Harry, and not Harry Potter, Boy-Who-Lived. And I think… I always took your friendship for granted in the past, and I'm sorry for that."

It was difficult for Harry to say what he said. Because of his upbringing, he was never good with his feelings, and had trouble expressing them or talking about them. So, having just opened up a great deal, his nervousness was bordering on panic when Hermione didn't say anything for several minutes. He looked over at her and saw her staring across the lake, a ghost of a smile on her lips and a tear rolling down her cheek.

"Thanks Harry," she finally said, before leaning over and kissing him lightly on the cheek.

They sat there in silence for the longest time. Neither of them knew what else to say, and Harry felt there was nothing more that _could_ be said on the matter. He lied back and stretched out on the grass, finding it very comfortable. Harry hadn't realised how tired he was, but felt like he could fall asleep right there. In fact, he was about to when Hermione broke the silence.

"Oh my!" she gasped, and Harry looked over at her. She was looking at her watch and said, "It's nearly three. And we have classes in the morning!"

_Typical Hermione_, Harry thought as he picked himself up. "Come on," he said, hoisting her to her feet, "I'll walk you back to the common room."

.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.

A/N- For anyone that thought Hermione's actions at the beginning were out of character, maybe they were, but look back at the recent books. She's a follower of the idea that the ends justify the means. Such as the fairly extreme acts of imprisoning Rita Skeeter and leading Umbridge to the centaurs, possibly to be killed. Maybe she's gone over the top though. The stuff with the love potion was my explanation for how very very awful the romance in book six was. As for who Harry ends up with: who knows? Could be Hermione. Or it could be Ginny. Or someone new. Or no one at all. I personally used to like H/Hr and hate H/G… now I don't really care for either. But that doesn't really pertain to what happens in this story, so we'll just have to wait and see.


	14. Survival of the Fittest

**Chapter 14**

**Survival of the Fittest**

Harry sighed deeply and slammed his book shut in frustration.

He had been sitting in the library for nearly three hours now with almost nothing to show for it. All he had found out was that Rowena Ravenclaw had a castle somewhere in Glen Coe and had several possessions that hadn't been seen in hundreds of years. He could probably learn more if he went to her castle, but that would mean finding it first. And no one seemed to know where it was.

He looked down at the picture of the beautiful woman on the cover of the book, her flowing red hair disappearing beneath her frame. She then looked at Harry and winked, almost mockingly.

"Oh, shut up," he said, even more annoyed. He turned the book over and sat back in his chair.

"Who are you talking to?" a feminine voice asked from right behind him. Harry jumped and turned around to see the Slytherin girl he had met on Halloween. She either didn't seem to notice or didn't seem to care that she had snuck up behind him and startled him.

"Uh… I was talking to… no one," he said uncomfortably. "It's Chelsea, right?"

She nodded and walked over to the table next to him. "I was about to head to class, but I saw you over here and wanted to thank you again for your help that night."

"It was the least I could do," Harry told her. "Just don't go chasing after Death Eater's anymore."

She smiled and nodded. She looked like she wanted to say something else, but Harry noticed a group of her Slytherin friends waving her over. "You'd better get to class then," he told her, pointing out the three girls across the room.

"Right. Bye then," she said. "And… thanks," she added hastily before she left.

Harry watched her go, his brow furrowed in thought. For some reason she reminded him of Luna. He couldn't place it, but it was something. She didn't carry quite the dottiness Luna did, but the Slytherin girl certainly had a carefree air about her. Especially when it came to what other people thought of her.

He looked back down at his book on the table and immediately remembered why he was so frustrated. "Useless," he muttered, flicking his wand and banishing the book back to its place on the shelf.

"Mr. Potter," he heard a voice call out from the other side of the room. He looked over to see Madadm Pince scowling at him. "No magic in the library."

"Sorry," he said, half-heartedly. Not bothering to look back at the strict librarian, he grabbed the next book and opened it up. He thumbed through it, not paying close attention as he allowed his mind to wander.

It had only been four days since he talked with Hermione, but things were already back to normal. The two of them and Ron were spending most of their time together outside of classes. The past two evenings, the three of them sat in Harry's room, going through various books and scrolls that he had borrowed from the library. It was helpful to get a different set of opinions, especially one from Hermione's mind.

And yet, as nice as it was to have things the way they used to be, Harry still felt a bit uncomfortable around Hermione. They had something of an unspoken agreement not to discuss some of the things that had happened the other night. Harry knew that some of her actions were made when she let her emotions get the better of her, and he didn't blame her at all for that. But it was something else that was on Harry's mind.

It seemed like Hermione had convinced him that he didn't have romantic feelings for him, but now he wasn't so sure he agreed with her. He certainly cared about her, probably more than he cared about anyone else. But was that enough?

He found her physically attractive, though maybe not more so than some of the other girls at Hogwarts. And he didn't seem to mind the idea of dating her. But again, now that he thought about it, that was also the same with other girls he knew. The only difference was their history, and how he felt about her because of that.

With his ability to keep Voldemort out of his head, Harry had allowed himself to think about these things for the first time in a while. But, with his limited experience in such matters, he wasn't making much sense of it. What he needed was someone he could talk to about everything. It's the kind of thing he would like to be able to talk about with his parents about. Or even Sirius.

Maybe Remus wouldn't mind talking with him next time they were together. Harry obviously wasn't as close to Remus as he had been with Sirius, but there was no reason he shouldn't be. He and James were practically brothers, meaning he was practically Harry's uncle.

Harry shut his book, deciding that he wasn't going to get any work done at the moment. He gathered his things and made his way toward the exit, ignoring the look Madam Pince gave him. Once he was back in the hallway, he chose to head up to the Room of Requirement. Maybe working on some new spells would help clear his head.

.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.

Something didn't feel right.

Harry wrapped his heavy cloak even tighter around himself immediately after stepping outside. It had been cold recently, but not this cold. In fact, it wasn't nearly this bad when Harry had entered Gringotts half an hour ago. Even with his thick dragon hide vest on, he was still rather uncomfortable. The stars above and the moonlight shining down told him that there were no Dementors present. Perhaps he was just imagining it, but he felt that something was out of place.

The reason he was in London was nothing more than some shopping. But it was what he was shopping for that made it necessary for him to sneak out of Hogwarts in the middle of the night. He had purposefully come this late to avoid as many people as he could. There weren't any lights on in the shop windows of Diagon Alley, but he knew there would be shops open in some of the other alleyways. And what he was looking for probably wouldn't be found in a respectable place such as Diagon Alley.

He had gone to Gringotts to withdraw some money, as well as check his account to make sure Fred and George had stopped paying him as much as they previously were. Fortunately for them, Harry's account was in order.

He made sure the hood of his cloak was covering his face before he walked down the steps of the bank and turned on to Knockturn Alley. He could see several lanterns shining from the sides of the street, and a few lights coming from the shops. Not knowing the area well, Harry walked slowly down the alley, eyeing each of the shops to see if they might have what he was looking for.

It wasn't long before Harry realised what was feeling so out of place: he was being followed. He could sense at least two people behind him, as they had been ever since he left Gringotts. Their movement told him that they were stalking him, and not just shopping like he was.

Harry continued down the alley, acting as if nothing was wrong, but his mind was racing. He didn't know who it was, but he had to assume the worst and figure they were Death Eaters. As nonchalantly as possible, he sped up his steps until he got near the end of the alley.

Not sparing a glance behind him, he ducked into a smaller alleyway to his right, but saw nothing but a brick wall twenty yards away. Mentally cursing, he tried to Disapparate, but found himself unable. One of his soon-to-be assailants must have put up a ward to prevent him from getting away. Apparently they knew he was coming. Harry quickly went through his options in his mind. In an emergency like this, it was legal to create a Portkey but Harry didn't know how. He could summon a broomstick from a nearby store, but there was no way it would get to him in time, or get to him without someone noticing.

In one last act of desperation, he fired several Reductor Curses at the wall impeding him, but they did nothing but dissipate on contact. _Well_, he thought, _I can't escape, but I can still fight my way out_. He turned back towards the way he came in to see the two figures standing there, blocking his path. They were both wearing black cloaks like Harry's. The only difference was they both had white masks covering their faces.

"Evenin' Potter," the one on the left said. "Nice night for a stroll, innit?"

Harry did his best to keep a cool demeanor, but inside he was bewildered and frustrated. Somehow these two Death Eaters knew he was coming before he even left the school. It could just have easily been Voldemort waiting for him. He didn't know what was going on, but he wanted some answers. If he could get out of this alive, that is.

In one swift move, he pulled off his cloak and tossed it aside, and drew his wand. "So," he said to them, "you two know who I am. How about you extend me the same courtesy?"

The Death Eater who didn't speak before merely laughed at this, and the other one said, "Sorry Potter, but we're needin' ya to come with us. Seems our master has a problem wit ya." The second man laughed again at the obvious joke.

"Sorry guys," Harry said, "but I'm not giving in that easily. I'm afraid you're going to have to take me forcefully."

Harry could tell the first man was grinning when he said, "That's just the way we like it."

He immediately fired a Cutting Hex straight at Harry's chest, who sidestepped it easily. Unfortunately, he walked right in to an identical spell from his other attacker. Harry grunted as the spell sliced through his shirt, but stopped at his vest. He kicked himself mentally for not concentrating.

He sent Stunners at each of them before diving to the side when his spells rebounded off their shields. He felt himself land hard on a rock, which he immediately banished in their direction. One of the men ducked out of the way, but the other couldn't and it hit his mask with a loud crack.

He fell to his knees, clutching his face and spitting blood through the mouth hole on his mask. This angered his partner, who turned to Harry and shouted, "_Deflagro!_"

A glowing ball of fire the size of his head rushed towards Harry. Thinking quickly, he muttered, "_Gelidus_," instantly freezing the projectile. It dropped to the ground a foot in front of him and cracked, shattering into dozens of pieces. Harry again used a Banishing Charm, sending the shards the other directions.

The Death Eater leaped backwards and yelled, "_Comburo!_" sending a jet of fire from his wand to melt the razor sharp pieces of ice.

Harry used that second to transfigure the hard dirt between the two Death Eaters into quicksand. Neither of them had time to react quickly enough, and when they did try to get away, it was too late. They both struggled but could do nothing as they slowly sank into the ground. Harry allowed himself to smirk at their position as he walked over to them.

He allowed them to sink all the way to their shoulders before he transfigured the ground back, leaving them stuck in place. One of the screamed out in frustration as he fought to break free, but neither of them could move anything but their heads.

"This isn't over, Potter!" the other one yelled out.

Harry swiftly kicked him in the face, his boot making a resounding crunch as the other man fell silent. "Well, as long as no one's going anywhere, let's see who we're dealing with," Harry said.

He knelt down in front of one of the Death Eaters and pulled off his mask. Harry immediately recognised the face underneath as Mulciber, one of the wizards he fought at the Ministry. His nose was broken from Harry's kick and blood was flowing freely down his face. He sneered at Harry while he futilely tried to free himself.

"Don't worry," Harry told him, "I'm sure they've got your old cell waiting for you back at Azkaban."

With nothing else to do, Mulciber spit a mouthful of blood onto Harry's boots. Harry wrinkled his nose in disgust before he vanished it and swung the mask hard into the side of Mulciber's head. It fell limp as the man lost consciousness and Harry tossed his mask aside.

He moved over to the other man and crouched down to remove his mask as well. The man beneath it was one Harry had never seen before. He looked to be around Harry's age, or maybe a few years older. "What's your name?" Harry asked him, but he got no answer. "How did you know I would be here?" he asked again, but the other man remained silent and looked away from him. "Very well, I'll leave it to the Ministry to sort you out," Harry said while standing back up. He dropped the mask on the ground and stomped down hard on it, breaking it into several pieces.

"Actually," Harry said, causing the Death Eater to look back and forth between Harry and his broken mask, fear etched into his face. "On second thought, I think I'll just get the information myself," Harry told him, focusing his mind so he could sift through the young man's thoughts.

The young Death Eater looked back over at him, expecting the same kind of physical harm his partner got. Very few wizards knew about Legilimency, and he clearly expected some sort of torture to make him talk. Then for some reason, his eyes flicked over and he looked at something behind Harry. Harry had a pretty good idea what that meant and tried to turn around, but something hit him hard in the back of the head. _How lame_… was his last thought before he blacked out.

.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.

"You're serious about this?"

"Well, isn't it something you would normally do?"

"Of course it is, but isn't that a dangerous bit of magic?"

"Not if we do it right. What does everyone else think?"

"I'm in. I would do it anyway, so why not?"

"Me too. Might as well make it formal just to be safe."

"I wouldn't like to be the odd one out."

"I don't know if we can do anything about that."

"Hey, don't talk to her like that!"

Harry could hear several voices, far off and indistinct, like he was listening from underwater. He tried to move his body, but nothing seemed to respond. He couldn't feel any of his limbs. In fact, all he could feel was a dull pain in the back of his head. He tried to focus his mind, but everything was still hazy. The voices, however, seemed to be growing clearer.

"_Sticks and stones…_" a female said in a sing-song voice.

"I don't even know what that means," said a masculine voice.

"If we could get back on topic…" a different male said.

"Right… so were all agreed then?" a new voice asked.

"Yes."

"Yeah."

"But of course."

""Well, if everyone else is."

"Good. I'd say we do it as soon as possible. And I also think we shouldn't tell Harry. You know what he'll think"

"Agreed. Speaking of which, it looks like he's waking up."

Harry was finally able to open his eyes, looking up at the familiar ceiling of the Hospital Wing. It was daytime from what he could tell. He tried to think back, and remembered it being dark out last time he was conscious. He continued trying to move the rest of his body, and was relieved when feeling slowly crept back into his arms and legs.

The next moment, a dark shape appeared above his head. Harry couldn't make it out at first, but blinked several times and saw that it was the very worried face of Ron. "Am I dead?" Harry muttered as Hermione's face swam into focus alongside Ron.

Ron managed a weak smile and said, "No, not yet."

Harry groaned and massaged his forehead. "What happened?"

"We were hoping you could tell us that, mate," Ron said nervously.

Very slowly, Harry managed to pull himself up into a sitting position, propping some pillows up behind him. Hermione and Ron leaned back and sat down on the bed beside his. On the other side of him, Ginny, Neville, and Luna were seated at a table, wearing concerned looks on their faces.

"Fred and George showed up last night, carrying you," Ron told him. "Said they saved you from Death Eaters."

Harry suddenly remembered what had happened. He noticed Hermione looking at him anxiously, desperate for an explanation. He gingerly rubbed the large knot on the back of his head as he explained to them, "I was coming out of Gringotts when I realised I was being followed. I ducked down Knockturn Alley but they cornered me. Used Anti-Apparation Wards and everything." He didn't feel the need to tell them that he was looking for something on Knockturn Alley. "I managed to stop two of them, but a third must have… snuck up behind me."

"Well, you must have made a lot of noise," Ron said. "Fred told me he heard something from his shop. And that the Ministry showed up right before they left."

"Did they at least catch the Death Eaters?" asked Harry

"No… they got away. Fred and George were more concerned with getting you out of there," Ron told him.

"I'll have to remember to thank them."

"That's all well and good," Hermione spoke up, "but why were you even out there to begin with?"

"I assure you, this time I wasn't looking for them, if that's what you mean," Harry said defensively. "Somehow they knew I was coming."

"So you think they have a spy here in the castle?" Ginny asked.

"There must be. I have the connection with Voldemort blocked," Harry told her.

"What do you mean 'this time?" Hermione asked quickly.

Harry looked away from her. "Well… there have been a few times when Snape has given me some information. I couldn't just ignore it, could I?" he asked hopefully, not wanting to incur Hermione's anger.

"Of course not." Harry breathed a sigh of relief. "But there were plenty of people you could have told. There was no reason that _you_ had to go after them and put yourself at risk. Are you insane!?"

"Look," Harry said, thinking quickly, "uh, let's just agree to disagree."

"You're not getting off that easy," Hermione told him forcefully.

"Well can you at least wait until my head doesn't hurt so much?" Harry pleaded with her.

Luckily, he was spared when Madam Pomfrey, apparently hearing the raised voices, entered the room. She quickly shooed everyone away from Harry's bed and started poking and prodding him.

"You seem to be all right, Mr. Potter," she said when she was done manhandling him. "I'll set out your potions and you can leave as soon as you take them. The rest of you can wait outside, he won't be long."

Harry mentally thanked the Healer as she ushered his friends out the door. Now, if he could only find a way escape the Hospital Wing without passing a fuming Hermione, he might avoid ending up under Madam Pomfrey's care again in the very near future.

.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.

Harry was very relieved to find that the _Daily Prophet_ had no articles on what had happened the previous night. With no Death Eaters captured, and not much apparent damage, there wasn't much of a story. Harry was very, very grateful to Fred and George for getting him away from there before anyone saw him. He had done well to stay out of the news so far this year, which was even better as Rita Skeeter was up to her usual business.

He was also able to calm Hermione down, with no small amount of effort, by assuring her he wouldn't run off alone and without notifying anyone beforehand. She, of course, demanded he not run off alone at all. In the end, he promised her that he wouldn't leave the castle again without her or Ron, or one of his other three closest friends.

Harry had slept through his morning classes, but woke up in time for lunch. None of the other students knew what had happened, so he wasn't bothered with a bunch of questions. His first class of the afternoon was Defense Against the Dark Arts, and he made his way up to the classroom with Hermione, Neville, and Ron alongside him. Lancaster wasn't there when they arrived, so the four of them sat together and wait. As predicted, Hermione talked about their previous exam, that they were due to get back today. Ron, who was sitting next to her, had to endure it, while Harry and Neville tuned her out.

"Good afternoon class," Lancaster said cheerfully when he entered the room. He made his way to his desk and took out a stack of papers while the class quieted down. "Let's see… Mr. Longbottom, if you would be so kind as to hand these out."

Neville got up and picked up the papers without hesitation, lest Hermione's eagerness spill over into impatience. He began passing them out to the rest of the class as Lancaster removed several books from his desk and went on. "I was very pleased with everyone's results on this exam. So pleased, in fact, that I've decided to give everyone a break today instead of moving right into our next area of study."

Most of the class grinned at this piece of information, including Neville, who had just returned to his seat next to Harry. Their previous lessons had been so grueling that everyone could appreciate a day away from rigorous studies.

"Thank you, Mr. Longbottom. So then," Lancaster continued, "I trust everyone read the supplementary book I assigned for you, _The Art of Duelling_?" Everyone nodded. "Excellent! I thought we could take a little time and discuss the finer points of a wizard's duel. Now, has anyone here ever been in a _proper_ wizard's duel?"

Lancaster was apparently not expecting any positive answers, which was something Harry wished he had noticed. He raised his hand, but immediately regretted it when he saw that no one else had. Some of the other students were looking at him oddly, as was his professor.

"Mr. Potter? Surely you now of the International Ban on Duelling, restricting it to the most special of circumstances?" Harry nodded. "Well then… might I ask with whom you duelled?"

Harry looked around nervously, but didn't see any easy way out of his situation. He looked back at Lancaster and answered softly, but assuredly, "Voldemort."

He could feel everyone in the room wince slightly. "The Dark Lord?" Lancaster repeated. "But when?"

"The end of my fourth year."

Lancaster's eyes widened significantly, as did some of the other students. Most of the group had been in the D.A. and knew that Harry's stories were true and that the _Prophet_ was slandering his name. However, the fact that he had duelled Voldemort and got away was as much as most people knew. Only Harry, and now Hermione, knew exactly what had happened.

Apparently Lancaster didn't even read the _Daily Prophet_. "But-but… a fourth year?" he stuttered. "A fourth year against the greatest dark lord in a hundred years? Forgive me for being so blunt, dear boy, but how did you fare?"

Harry smiled ruefully and answered, "Not well." The class had gone completely silent, and Harry continued to look forward at his professor. "I had a much more limited knowledge of spells, while he used nothing but Unforgivables."

This piece of information seemed to floor Lancaster. "The Unforgivable Curses? Y-y-you mean you fought off the Imperius from Voldemort?"

"Well, Professor Moody had showed us how earlier in the—" Harry started.

"And you fought off the Cruciatus as well?"

"Well you can't really fight the Cruciatus, you just have to endure it, but—"

"And the Killing Curse too?"

"Well you obviously there was nothing I could do about that one. And he wasn't on target, or I wouldn't be here," Harry said, growing annoyed by some of their awed looks.

"Regardless," Lancaster said collecting himself, "Very few witches and wizards face the Killing Curse at least once in their lifetimes. Let alone before they get out of school."

"Actually, I think it has been three or four times now," Harry said before he could stop himself. His professor looked even more surprised, and a few people in the room gasped.

"But still," said Lancaster, "you fought with him. And you got away. How did you manage to escape?"

This time, Harry managed to hold his tongue. He didn't figure anyone knew about the Priori Incantatem effect, save for Ron and Hermione, but he still wasn't keen on sharing to everyone that his wand and Voldemort's wand were brothers. "I'd rather not discuss that, sir. Mainly by luck," he said firmly.

"Well… very well," Lancaster said. "But still, to survive a duel with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is remarkable. You never seem to run out of surprises."

_That's not even the half of it_, Harry thought to himself as Lancaster continued. "Now, Harry, having been in a proper wizard's duel, what must each dueller do first?"

"You bow to your opponent," Harry said.

"Correct. It is appropriate to bow to each other before starting a duel. Though this custom has been lost in recent generations," Lancaster went on describing proper duelling techniques, with Harry only half-listening.

He was finding it hard to concentrate with various classmates (the ones who weren't in the D.A.) staring at him every five minutes. Had he been paying attention, he would have picked up on the whispered conversations happening between the two in front of him; as it was, he merely caught pieces, such as, "…bowed to You-Know-Who!?" and "…been under his Cruciatus too…" Harry found it almost funny how much things had changed. A few years ago, no one believed a word he had said, and all the students were convinced he was making up stories solely for attention.

He was relieved when the class finally ended. Unfortunately, his relief was short-lived. He looked up from packing his books back into his bag to see several of his classmates waiting for him. Harry sighed and asked patiently, "Can I help you all with something?"

They all looked at each other, but Ernie Macmillan was the one that first spoke up. "Well, the thing is, after today's class, we all realise that we've forgotten how much danger we're in, and how much we need to be able to protect ourselves. So we were wondering if you would consider reforming our old club."

Harry raised an eyebrow at them. "This, coming from the group that didn't show up when they—" he nodded towards Ron and Hermione "—called you last June?" It was still a sore spot for Harry that only Neville and Luna had bothered helping.

Most of his classmates shifted uncomfortably or looked away. Ernie continued to speak for them, "Well… the thing is, since we never met last year, none of us bothered carrying our coins anymore. Otherwise we would have helped. We're all sorry, right guys?"

Most of them nodded, and some looked rather ashamed. Harry relaxed a little bit after seeing this. "You really want to do this?" he asked. "Even though we have a competent Defense professor?"

They all nodded again, and Terry Boot said, "It can't hurt to have some supplemental instruction, right?"

Since Harry had wanted Ron and Hermione to do just this earlier in the year, there was no need for him to consider it. "All right then, we'll do it," Harry told them, and everyone smiled. "Let's see… well, I guess we could meet tonight." No one objected so Harry went on, "Eight o'clock, at the regular place. Everyone should spread the word in their common rooms tonight. We're not breaking any rules this time so there's no need to keep it secret."

"You're sure about that?" Ernie asked. "That it's allowed, I mean. We took a pretty big risk last time, and I still don't want to lose my prefect's badge."

"It shouldn't be a problem, since Umbridge is gone and all her decrees were lifted," Harry said. "But I'll check with McGonagall just to be sure."

"Harry?" Hermione said from his other side. He looked over at her questioningly, and she asked, "Well, shouldn't we have an age limit? I mean, some of the spells we worked on last time were fairly advanced, and the younger students just don't understand magic well enough or have enough control yet."

Harry understood where she was coming from, but didn't particularly agree with her. "I think anyone who wants to learn how to defend them self should be allowed. Voldemort has shown that he's not above attacking children. I'm living proof of that."

"I agree with Harry," Parvati said. "We shouldn't exclude anyone that wants to learn just because of their ability."

"Yeah, but Hermione's right as well," Michael Coroner spoke up. "They _would_ hold us back." He went on, "Say we allowed anyone fourth year and up, and then have each house work with their younger classmates other times during the week. Teach them basic stuff that they can handle. And when the rest of us meet, we can do whatever Harry has for us."

"Oh, I think that's a great idea!" Hermione said brightly. She then turned to Harry and said, "But it's up to you."

"I think it sounds good," Harry smiled. "As long as no one minds helping out the younger kids." Everyone shook their heads. "All right then, so I'll see you all tonight."

"Everyone seemed to be excited," Hermione said after the rest of the class left.

Harry nodded in agreement. "I just hope they'll take it seriously. We aren't really doing this for fun, are we?"

"No, but that doesn't mean we can't have fun doing it," Hermione said. "Lighten up, Harry. If they all enjoy it, then they're more likely to work hard."

"Yeah, I guess you're right," Harry said. "So what are you doing before dinner?"

Hermione shrugged. "I don't know… go to the library, I suppose."

"So nothing important then," Harry said with a hint of humor. "Maybe you could come by my room when you get back from Arithmancy and help me figure out what I'm going to talk about tonight."

"That's fine," said Hermione. "Oh, but I'd better leave now or I'll be late. Professor Vector said she won't accept our essays if they aren't on her desk when she gets there."

"Cheers then," Harry said as she left the room.

"So what are you going to do now?" Ron asked him. Ron, Harry, and Neville were the only ones left in the room.

"Go talk to McGonagall, I suppose," Harry answered. "Since I've got the chance." There was actually someone else he needed to talk to, after what had just come up. If Harry could find her, that is.

"Well, I guess we'll go back to the common room. I think Ginny's got a free period, so we'll let her know what's going on," Ron said, and Neville nodded in agreement.

"Right then. I'll see you at dinner," said Harry. He followed them out the door before heading the opposite way down the hall.

After stopping by McGonagall's office and making sure that he wouldn't be breaking any rules (she was delighted at the idea) he headed back down to the ground floor, keeping an eye open for the other person he sought. Unfortunately, he had no idea where to look.

Much to his surprise, he did run in to Luna out in the courtyard. Like Ginny, she also had a free period, and seemed to be spending it wandering around the school. Harry didn't ask exactly what she was doing, not wanting to hear what magical creature she was searching for this time. Instead, he told Luna all about the discussion he had after Defense and the D.A. meeting later.

"Oh, that's great!" she said excitedly. "It'll be nice to feel like I have friends again."

Harry mentally sighed, and said, "Luna, you _do_ have friends."

"Oh… right. I forgot," she said. "Oh, now I need to go write father. I was going to do it later, but since we're meeting tonight… I need to tell him that all the Wrackspurts have disappeared from the castle." She stopped and gazed around the courtyard. "I haven't felt any this term. Have you?"

"Er… no?" Harry said uncertainly, not able to remember all of Luna's creatures.

Luna nodded, and said, "Father will be most interested. Winter is when they're supposed to be most prominent. It could mean something bad will happen soon." She turned and skipped a few steps in the direction of the Entrance Hall, but stopped and skipped back over to Harry. "See you tonight then," was all she said before turning back and leaving the courtyard. Harry couldn't help but smile at his friend.

Once Luna had gone, Harry went back inside as well. He wandered the halls for nearly an hour, visiting just about every hallway in the castle. In fact, he was just about to give up when he finally found who he was looking for. He let out a great sigh of relief when he spotted Chelsea, the Slytherin girl. She was coming out of Flitwick's classroom with a few of her friends.

He hurried over to her, and she smiled when she saw him. "Hey, could I talk to you for a second?" he asked.

"Yeah, sure," Chelsea said. She then turned to her friends, who were all giving Harry odd looks, and said, "I'll catch up with you later." They nodded apprehensively and continued down the hall, one of them throwing another look Harry's way. "So what is it?"

"Well," Harry said, "I was wondering what you were doing tonight."

She looked at him funnily and asked, "What are you talking about?"

"See, we've got this group that gets together and practices defensive spells, to learn to protect ourselves, and we're having a meeting tonight," Harry explained. "And I was wondering if you wanted to go."

Chelsea continued looking at him doubtfully. "How come I've never heard about this before?"

"Well, we started it two years ago, since Umbridge wasn't teaching us anything," Harry told her. "So we had to keep it a secret. We kind of forgot about it last year, but now that things are getting more dangerous, a lot of my classmates wanted to start it up again."

Chelsea had nodded in agreement when Harry mentioned Umbridge. "It's a good idea, I guess," she said. "But why ask _me_?"

"Don't you want to learn to defend yourself better?" Harry asked.

"Of course. I just didn't figure you would want Slytherins in your group."

Harry smirked ruefully and said, "Actually, you'd be the first." He then added, "But I'm sure you know that crest on your robes won't protect you from Voldemort."

She flinched at the mention of Voldemort's name, but nodded and said, "That's what I've been telling my friends for the past year and a half." She then looked at him wryly and asked, "Say, this wouldn't have anything to do with my comment the other week on your filtered perspective of our house, would it?"

Harry hoped he hadn't been that obvious, but this girl was cleverer than he had anticipated. "Well, you heard what the Sorting Hat's been saying the past couple years. Uniting the houses and all that. I'm sure you're sick of the rift that the house rivalries have caused."

"It _is_ getting out of hand," she agreed. "All right Harry, I'll come to your little club. So long as you keep those Gryffindors of yours on a short leash."

"That's the spirit!" Harry said in a mock cheerful tone. "Meet me at a quarter to eight, up on the seventh floor by that tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy." She looked at him questioningly and he added, "Just trust me."

"If you say so," Chelsea said, before turning and heading down the hallway to the stairs.

.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.

Harry paced nervously back and forth as the clock ticked closer to eight. Most of the people he was expecting were already seated in the room, chatting animatedly while they all waited for the last few to arrive.

Chelsea had looked understandably skeptical when she had met Harry outside the Room of Requirement. And even more so when a door appeared out of nowhere in front of them. She was reluctant to enter until Harry explained what the room was and how he accessed it. Once they did go inside, Harry showed her some of the room's abilities. She was extremely impressed, and surprised she had never known about such a room.

After that, Harry had introduced Chelsea to Hermione, Ron, and Neville, and then to Ginny and Luna when they arrived a few minutes later. He had mainly done this so that she would have someone to talk to or work with during the meeting. Harry was rather pleased that none of them said anything about her being in Slytherin. He had half-expected Ron to make some rude comment.

"Harry, you're going to be fine," Hermione said from beside him, snapping him from his thoughts. "You've done this dozens of times."

"Yeah… yeah, you're right," Harry said with no conviction. He had never been one for speaking to large groups of people, even though he had done it many times in his fifth year. He just hoped once he took that first step, he would be fine.

A few moments later, a chime sounded in the room, indicating that it had reached eight. Harry assumed that everyone who was coming was here already. Everyone seemed to quiet down and face the front of the room where Harry, Ron, and Hermione were standing. Or rather, where Harry was standing; Ron and Hermione were sitting on the table beside him. The whole room was looking at him expectantly, so he took a deep breath and began.

"Good evening everyone," he said shakily. "Well… I guess you all know why we're here. To all of you who I didn't talk with earlier today, I assume your housemates explained everything to you." Most of them nodded and Harry went on, "Good. Uh… well, for everyone who wasn't with us two years ago, we started this group to learn some defensive magic on our own, since Umbridge wasn't teaching us any."

There were several boos and hisses at the mention of Umbridge's name and Harry smiled. "Well, it's not going to be a secret club this time, but I think it will be just as necessary. The threat of Voldemort is even greater now than it has ever been." He ignored all the gasps and added, "Every one of us is at risk.

"So, I wanted to meet tonight just to go over what we would be learning and work out scheduling and all that. I know a lot of you have Quidditch practice, so I don't think we'll be able to have a fixed meeting time. We had the same problem last time, but fortunately Hermione," he gestured to her, "came up with a brilliant way to let everyone know about when we would meet next. Each member had a fake Galleon and when I charmed mine to show the meeting time, it would appear on everyone's coin. Of course, there isn't need for that kind of secrecy anymore, but it's an easy way to tell everyone all at once, so I think we'll continue using them."

Hermione then took over for a moment. "Before everyone leaves, if I can get you all to sign up on this parchment," she drew a roll of parchment from her bag, "then I can make some more coins for all the new people." A few of the people eyed the parchment warily. Hermione understood and added, "Don't worry, there aren't any Loyalty Charms or anything on it. We don't have to hide from anyone so it doesn't matter who you talk about it with."

"So," Harry said, "Are there any questions before we continue?"

"Yeah," a Hufflepuff that Harry didn't know spoke up, "What is a Slytherin doing here?"

Harry looked over at Chelsea who was glaring at the kid who asked the question. He growled under his breath, annoyed that he had to deal with something like this so early. "She's here because I invited her," he said shortly. "And technically, so are all of you. This is a fairly informal group, so I don't have a lot of rules. I'll tell you one of them. Everyone in this room is here because I want them to be here. If you disrespect anyone here, then consider yourself no longer a part of this group." He then looked at the younger Hufflepuff and said, "This is the only time I'll say it."

Several people looked between Harry and the other boy nervously, but most of the group remained silent and still. Harry was satisfied and confident that they all got the message. He went back to smiling and said, "All right then, let's get started. Last time, all we did was work on certain spells useful for defense in a variety of situations. This time, I'd like to do something else. Or, rather, something more.

"I'm sure you all know that I wasn't here the past two months." Everyone seemed to perk up, hoping Harry share his secrets with them. "I won't tell you where I was or what I was doing, so don't bother asking. But I will tell you that I learned a whole lot. And I think most of it will be helpful to you all. Basically, I've learned that, in a duel, it's not the person who knows the most spells that will win. It takes an understanding of magic and its functions to know what you can do in any situation." Harry saw some confused looks. "Ummm… how about an example. Can I get a volunteer?"

Nobody stepped forward at first, probably figuring Harry wanted to take his previous anger out on someone. Harry looked over to his friends, wordlessly asking one of them to help. Ginny and Chelsea both looked the other way, while Luna looked Harry right in the eye. Or so he thought; it almost seemed like she was looking directly through Harry. Neville looked right at him and shook is head defiantly. "No one?" Harry asked.

"Uh, I guess I could," someone in the crowd said, and Harry identified the voice as Anthony Goldstein.

He got up and walked over to Harry, who said, "Just stand there for a moment." He turned back to the group and said, "So… the example… let's see." He thought for a few moments, trying to figure out what spell to use. When he decided on one, he looked back at the group and asked, "Can anyone tell me what the Reductor Curse does?"

A lot of the group seemed to know of the Curse, and several of them raised their hands. Harry was expecting a bunch of blank looks, and was pleased by the response. He pointed to Justin Finch-Fletchley, who said, "It's used to blast apart solid objects." Many of the others nodded in agreement.

"Actually," Harry said, "that's only partially true." Justin looked puzzled, but instead of explaining himself, Harry pulled out his wand and pointed it at Anthony, saying, "_Reducto_."

About half of the group gasped, and a few of them jumped out of their seats and drew their own wands. Anthony just stood there, a look of shock frozen on his face as the spell hurtled towards him. A split-second later, it connected, lifting him off his feet and sending him back a few yards in the air before dropping him to the ground with a loud thump.

Then, much to everyone's surprise, Anthony stood up, grimacing and rubbing his chest. "Ow! Bloody hell, Harry, that hurt!"

"Sorry," Harry said with grin, "but it had to be done."

Anthony turned and headed back to his seat, mumbling something that sounded like, "See if I ever volunteer again…"

"Hey, Goldstein, I thought that badge on your robes actually meant something," another Ravenclaw called out jokingly.

"Coming from someone who didn't even make _Prefect_, I wouldn't expect you to know what a Head Boy badge means," Anthony shot back, still massaging his chest. A good number of the group laughed at the exchange.

Harry smiled as well, but got their attention back. "Back to the matter at hand… as you can see, Anthony is not dead. Your definition, Justin, was close, but not exactly right." Everyone had calmed down now and was hanging on Harry's every word. "With an inanimate object, the curse _will_ blast it apart, like you said. With living things though, it isn't as effective. And it becomes less and less effective the more complex being is. With a person, like Anthony, it will merely feel like a rather forceful kick, but with very little physical damage."

From the looks of everyone, it seemed that no one knew quite that much about the curse. Not even Hermione. "So that is one of the things I hope to teach you all," Harry went on. "Knowing how to cast a particular spell can be helpful, but not as much as understanding exactly what a spell can do and how you can use it in any number of situations."

Harry paused for a minute to let that sink in, before moving on. "Now… the next thing… " he said, thinking about what he wanted to do. He figured the last curse would actually be useful for a demonstration. Closing his eyes, he mentally asked the room for what he needed.

When he opened his eyes, he saw two identical wooden tables appear on one side of the room. Those who never been in the Room of Requirement, or didn't exactly know its capabilities were startled, but the rest simply looked interested, curious as to what Harry would do next.

"Perfect," Harry said, looking over at the tables. "All right then," he started before facing them and raising his wand. He aimed at the first one and shouted at the top of his lungs, "_REDUCTO!_" The people closest to him winced, but the red beam that shot from his wand was dull and thin. It struck the table, but instead of shattering, it merely cracked down the middle. The two halves clunked to the floor and Harry turned to the other one. He focused himself and, in barely more than a whisper, said, "_Reducto_." This time though, a beam of the brightest red flew from Harry's wand and connected with the table, instantly destroying it and sending splinters and fragments all over the room. Several people whistled at the power of his spell.

After asking the room to get rid of the mess, Harry addressed the group again. "Most of you sixth and seventh years have learned how to cast nonverbal spells. Incantations are just words we use to help learn spells. It doesn't really matter what you say or how you say it… as long as you know the spell you want to cast. You have to be able to feel it, not just think or say it." He pointed his wand to the side and said, "_Crucio_." Everyone tensed up or opened their eyes wide in surprise, but instead of the Cruciatus Curse, a simple shield was conjured beside him.

"Most witches and wizards don't have the focus or concentration to cast nonverbal spells, or cast a spell while saying something else," Harry went on. "In fact, most people don't even bother, and use incantations because it's easier. Or there's no need to do otherwise. I don't expect any of you to master it, but I want you to understand the importance and usefulness of nonverbal spellcasting."

Harry let them think about what he said for a few minutes, while he went over and had a whispered conversation with Ron and Hermione. When he was done, he faced everyone and asked, "So, are there any questions?"

Only one person raised their hand: a Ravenclaw girl he vaguely recognised. Everyone else seemed too awed with him to speak up. Harry nodded at the girl, and she timidly asked, "Where did you learn all of this?"

"Our various Defense teachers, and some of it I taught myself," Harry told her. "Which means it's not impossible. Some of what we work on will be pretty advanced stuff, so I don't expect everyone to pick it up. But I do expect everyone to try. Agreed?"

They all nodded, and Harry said, "All right then, let's split up and do some actual work. Let's have everyone who was in the group last time work with some of the new people. Find out what all they know and go over as much of the basic stuff as you can."

With that, everyone stood up and sorted themselves out. Harry, Hermione, and Ron joined them and each found a group of new students to work with. Harry spent a little time getting know the students he was helping. It wasn't easy as most of them seemed too nervous or too intimidated by him to speak up.

For the next half hour, Harry covered the Disarming Spell and Stunner, as that was all they had time for. Most of them already knew both spells, and the others picked it up quickly. Harry glanced around and saw that most of the other groups were having similar success.

When Harry checked his watch and saw that it was nearly nine, he got everyone's attention and ended the meeting. "We'll get everyone's coins to them sometime during the week," Harry told them as they passed around the parchment to sign it. "And then I can notify everyone of the next meeting."

Once everyone left, Harry sat around with his rest of his friends, talking about how things went. "There really weren't a whole lot of people, were there?" he asked them.

"I was thinking the same thing, mate," Ron agreed with him.

"Well, we didn't give everyone much notice, did we?" Hermione said. "Plus a lot of people are busy with other clubs."

"We still had more than last time," Ginny said. "By the way Harry, I think you did great tonight."

"Oh yeah?" Harry asked. "Well, it's thanks to Hermione for helping me prepare. You think they'll come back?"

"Are you kidding? They think you're a god, Harry," Neville told him. "They'll want to come back every day." Luna sniggered behind her hands until Harry looked over at her warningly.

"He's right though," Ron said. "You saw those two Ravenclaws in the front row, right? Looking at you all dreamily."

"Come off it, Ron," Harry told him, "they were just paying attention."

"I saw more than just those two, Ron," Hermione added playfully. "You know what it is, Harry? Same as last year, you're the Chosen One. You're the hero again. Hero to the _entire_ wizarding world."

"Shut up, all of you," Harry said irritably.

"You know, people never stop being impressed or surprised by what you've done or what you can do," Ginny said, grinning mischievously at him. "Can you imagine years from now, when they're all reading your biography? Learning _all_ of your secrets."

Harry sank down in his chair, scowling at all of them. "I should go back to Grimmauld Place," he muttered as they all began to laugh.

.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.

A/N- yeah…


	15. The Indifference of Good Men

**Chapter 15**

**The Indifference of Good Men**

It had only been a week since the first D.A. meeting, but the weather had taken a drastic change. The uncharacteristically cool and crisp November air turned to a harsh and bitter wind with the beginning of December. In fact, the first snow Hogwarts saw turned out to be one of the worst storms in recent years. Not a single person could be found in the halls as everyone opted to huddle around the fires in their common rooms. This was fortunate for Harry, as no one was likely to notice his absence in the overcrowded room.

Since the D.A. meeting, Harry had been spending some of his time out of classes up in Gryffindor Tower. After having spoken in front of a number of his classmates, as well as having some interaction with them, he felt more comfortable returning to his common room. It was only when he had some studying to do outside the library, which, of course, had nothing to do with Horcruxes. Harry made sure that subject didn't leave his room. He even stopped using the library for that research, instead just borrowing the books and taking them to the privacy of his own study area.

At the moment, Harry was returning to the castle after meeting with Snape. After the attack on Harry in London, as well as several other strange events in the past week, he, Ron, and Hermione were convinced there was a spy within Hogwarts. That was something Harry wouldn't stand for, and he demanded Snape tell him who it was. Fortunately, with much prodding and convincing, Snape gave him a name.

Harry checked the Marauder's Map to make sure no one was in sight of the one-eyed witch statue. As luck would have it, there wasn't a soul in the hallway, or any of the other hallways one this floor. Harry checked the rest of the map and found out why. Nearly everyone was in the Great Hall, just sitting down to dinner. That might even make things work out better. This way, McGonagall would be present and he wouldn't have to drag someone all the way up to her office.

Harry pulled himself out of the secret passageway and closed the witches hump before dusting himself off and straightening his robes. Once he was presentable, he made his way down to the Great Hall. Everyone was eating and chatting loudly when he entered, but he ignored them. He immediately began searching the crowd for his target.

It didn't take him long before he spotted the dark-skinned Slytherin with high cheekbones: Blaise Zabini. He was, of course, at the Slytherin table, eating with his normal group of friends. Harry felt a slight surge of anger at the sight of him, the fact that this person was the reason he was almost killed last week. That, along with the fact that his presence alone endangered everyone in the castle, including all his friends.

Harry made his way over to the Slytherin table slowly, not wanting to get anyone's awareness at first. When Blaise eventually did notice Harry approaching him, he sneered and spat, "What the hell do you want, Potter?"

The nearby students looked over to see what was going on. Harry simply smirked and said, "A word. With you."

Blaise opened his mouth, no doubt to retort with some insulting comment, but Harry didn't let him. Wand already in his hand, he flicked at the other boy, sending him flying from his seat and then to the ground, skidding to a halt a few feet from the teacher's table.

The people watching the exchange gasped in shock, which, in turn, gained Harry the attention of everyone in the room. McGonagall, who had also been watching, was quickly on her feet, a look of surprise and anger on her face. "Mr. Potter, what is the meaning of this?" she demanded.

Harry, who had walked over to the temporarily stunned Zabini, grabbed him by the back of the robes and said, "I'll show you." He dragged the other boy over to the staff table, ignoring his struggles and groans of pain as Harry let his head bump hard against the stone steps.

At this point, everyone was standing to get a better view, and some had even climbed onto the benches. McGonagall, however, had drawn her own wand, ready to intervene if Harry did something dangerous or harmed anyone.

Instead, Harry dropped Zabini and grabbed his arm. He held it in front of McGonagall and pulled down Zabini's sleeve, revealing the Dark Mark. McGonagall's lips tightened into a thin line, and the other teachers looked aghast at the angry red tattoo identical to the Mark that had been seen in the sky so often. None of the others seemed to know that it was Voldemort's way of branding his supporters, but they could tell that, whatever it meant, it wasn't good.

"Filius," McGonagall finally said, her calm voice betraying a restrained fury, "please go and call for the Aurors."

Flitwick seemed to know what the Mark on Zabini's arm meant as well. He simply nodded and hurried into the antechamber behind the staff table. Everyone else in the room had begun whispering amongst themselves, not quite sure what was going on. They had expected Harry to be punished for his outburst, but the Headmistress was now looking upon the victim with a kind of anger they had never seen from her before.

Harry let Zabini's arm go and he fell to the ground in a heap. The Death Eater looked up at Harry, then at McGonagall, fear evident in his eyes. "I… I c-can explain—" he tried to say, but was cut off when McGonagall conjured thick ropes to wrap tightly around him.

There was a collective gasp throughout the entire Hall. All the students were still trying to figure out what their professors had seen on Zabini's arm. No one was expecting their Headmistress to attack a student and some of the closer students backed away in fear.

McGonagall looked up and across the room, finding that she had the attention of everyone present. "You will all return to your common rooms," she ordered. "Food will be sent up for anyone that didn't have a chance to eat. Now," she added when no one moved.

An hour later, Harry was sitting in the Headmistresses office. The Aurors had just left, with Zabini in tow, after using a dose of Veritaserum to confirm that he was a Death Eater. It was after that that the rest of the professors were informed of Voldemort's method of marking his followers. They were now to be on the lookout for anyone carrying the Mark, or acting strangely in any other way. McGonagall asked the heads of all houses to keep an eye on their students and be wary of signs like missing classes, or disappearing from the castle altogether.

"I would once again like to thank you," McGonagall broke the silence. She was seated at her desk across from him, the flickering lanterns highlighting the lines in her aging face. "I had no idea things had gotten this bad. A spy in the castle… and a student, no less." She leaned back in her seat, looking rather dejected. Harry knew that she felt she had failed the school.

"Fortunately, he made some mistakes and we were able to catch him," Harry comforted her. He knew that he took the safety of the school in the same regard as she did. "And I know for a fact that he was the only spy."

McGonagall nodded and said, "That's very good news. I assume you learned this, as well as Mr. Zabini's position, from the same source that tips you off to those Death Eater raids you've been informing me off?" Harry nodded. "Might I ask who he is?"

Harry grinned and said, "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"Fair enough," she said with a light smile of her own.

Then something occurred to Harry. Something that had been on his mind for some time now. McGonagall obviously noticed the way he suddenly stared off into space. "Is there something else troubling you?"

Harry looked back at her. "Yes, actually. Just a bad feeling," he said, but then corrected himself. "No, not a feeling. More than that. It's about Voldemort. He's going to come here, I just know it. He's always been obsessed with Hogwarts, and I know he'll eventually take it."

McGonagall looked at him thoughtfully. "Well, while this isn't unexpected, it is still unwelcome to hear. I trust your instincts, Potter, and I will make preparations for the worst. We already have Alastor and a few other Order members watching over the school. Perhaps I could convince the Minister to loan us some Aurors as well. Now, you'll have to excuse me, but I will be expected at the Ministry shortly."

"Don't let me keep you," Harry told her politely.

She nodded and stood up with Harry. "Thank you again for your help. It's always nice to see I'm not the only one looking out for the welfare of the school. I suggest you return to you room. I believe you have some company awaiting you."

With that, she entered the Floo and disappeared.

Harry left the room and headed downstairs to his own room. When he turned on to the sixth floor corridor, he saw that McGonagall had been right: Ron and Hermione were leaning against the wall just outside his room, looking rather perturbed. They perked up when they noticed Harry approaching.

"What took you so long?" Hermione asked impatiently.

"Sorry, but McGonagall wanted me to stay and talk to the Aurors," Harry told her before giving the password to his door. "Come on, let's go inside."

"I'm not so sure that was a good idea, Harry," Hermione said when the three of them were seated around Harry's fire. The Warming Charm Hermione and Ron had used while waiting in the drafty hallway worked fine, but it wasn't as comfortable as the real thing.

Harry raised an eyebrow at her. "I hope you're not suggesting that I should have allowed a Death Eater to continue spying on us and putting all of us in danger."

"No, of course not," Hermione said quickly. "It's just, aren't you endangering Snape? I mean, won't Voldemort know that Snape told you who the spy was?"

"I don't think so."

"Harry, I know Snape is a very good Occlumens, but with the evidence against him, Snape lying to Voldemort won't do any good," Hermione pressed.

"I understand you concern," Harry told her, "and Snape had the same concerns. We eventually decided that it wouldn't be a problem." Hermione didn't say anything, meaning she was waiting for an explanation. "Well, Voldemort obviously knows about the botched attack on me last week. And he knows I'm not stupid. And that I have your mind to help me as well. He figured I would be able to put two and two together and realise how those Death Eaters knew where I was going to be."

"Well, that explains how you would know Voldemort has an informant in the castle," Hermione said. "But not how you know who it was."

"Well, we could have figured it out eventually. It would have to be someone from the group that Malfoy ran around with. None of the others in the castle had Death Eaters in their family. Granted, a lot of the other Slytherins are gits, but not Voldemort's supporters. And after that, you can eliminate them easily. No one else has the competence or audacity to spy like that."

They were clearly listing the other Slytherins in their minds, just to be sure. "What about Nott?" Ron asked.

"I don't think so," Harry shook his head. "I've seen him with Malfoy a few times, but other than that, he keeps to himself. I think he's too smart to get caught up with Voldemort. I think we would see that as weakness, to be in that kind of servitude."

Hermione eventually agreed with him. "I'm just glad you thought this through. Otherwise Snape could have been killed."

"On the surface, that wouldn't really be a loss," Harry said, in complete seriousness. "But the information he's given me has been pretty important."

Hermione looked at him oddly and said, "I'm just going to assume you're joking."

"If it suits you. Just because he's being somewhat cooperative now doesn't change what he's done to me," Harry said, smiling as Ron nodded his head in agreement to Harry's previous statement. "So did I miss anything while I was gone?"

"Not really," Ron answered. "Just me trying to convince Hermione not to stay here over the Holidays."

"Of course you're not," Harry said to Hermione. "Why would you stay when none of us will be here?"

"I've nowhere else to go," Hermione said, turning away from him uncomfortably.

"Sure you do," Harry told her. "You have my house. And the Burrow, I'm sure Ron doesn't mind." Ron shook his head, indicating that he, indeed, didn't mind. "I figure Mrs. Weasley will have me over at some point as well. And I expect Ron to come stay with me for a bit."

"Oh yeah?" Ron asked, clearly excited about the prospect.

"We have work to do, don't we? All three of us. I need you both there," Harry told them firmly.

"Well count me in," Ron said at once.

Harry turned to Hermione. "Yeah… yeah, you're right," she agreed. "I just didn't want… forget it. Thanks Harry."

.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.

Christmas had come and gone in a blur. It was definitely one of the best Harry had in his short life. The Burrow had been filled with friends and family, many of whom Harry hadn't seen in some time: namely Remus and the entire Weasley family.

Arthur had somehow managed to get several days off by pulling some strings at work. He seemed the most jovial of the bunch, until Harry asked him why he went to such lengths to get as much time off as he did. Harry immediately wished he hadn't asked when he heard Arthur's answer. _It could be the last Christmas with the whole family_.

Harry had immediately promised Arthur that it wouldn't be.

After that, Harry was rather subdued, wanting only to get back to Grimmauld Place and back to work. He did his best to enjoy Mrs. Weasley's Christmas day feast, which would have been hard not to. But at the end of the day, Harry had decided to return home instead of spending another night. Everyone seemed disappointed, but Harry had made up his mind. It wasn't really what he wanted either; he had only a little time to talk to Remus, and practically none with Tonks, who only arrived an hour before dinner.

As they had decided, Ron and Hermione left with Harry, after saying their goodbyes. Ginny was quite peeved that she couldn't come along, but Mrs. Weasley wouldn't allow it. As Ginny was the only of Molly's children who she still had control over, Molly made sure to exercise that control and told Ginny it would be safer to stay at the Burrow. Eventually, though, Harry managed to get Molly to allow Ginny to visit them at least for one day.

"You'll have to hold on to me," Harry told them once they were outside and preparing to leave. "The wards will only let me through, but it should work for you two if I Side-Along Apparate you."

"_Should_?" Hermione asked skeptically.

"You'll be fine."

Hermione wrapped one of her arms around Harry's, and Ron merely grabbed a fistful of Harry's other sleeve. Both of them picked up their trunks with their free hand before Harry Disapparated.

They landed neatly near the front door of Number 12 a moment later. Hermione and Ron quickly began looking around, noticing all the changes from when they were last here.

"Looks a lot different, doesn't it?" Harry said. "Sirius managed to finish fixing it up before he died."

"He did a great job," Hermione told him.

"You two know you're way around, right? My bedroom is the one across the hall from the library. Any other one you like is yours." Harry then added, "For now and whenever you're here. Dobby's also here with us, so if you need anything at all, just ask him."

.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.

After getting a better night's sleep than he had in several months, Harry made his way downstairs to the kitchen. It was a week since the three of them had arrived at Number 12, and they were all enjoying the time away from everyone. Hermione was already seated at the table, eating breakfast and reading the day's edition of the _Daily Prophet_. She was still wearing her bathrobe, so she hadn't been up for long.

"Morning," Harry said as he entered.

"Good morning," she replied, looking up from the paper to watch Harry pour himself a cup of coffee.

Harry's breakfast was already waiting for him at the table when he turned back around. He smiled to himself at the look on Hermione's face. He knew the mark of a good house-elf was to not be seen, but Hermione must have figured at least Dobby wouldn't be so elusive.

"I ask him to eat with me every day," Harry said, reading her mind, "but he's always 'too busy'." He sat down across from her and started on his meal.

"Maybe I can ask him to help out with S.P.E.W.," Hermione told him. "Having a free house-elf could really help us."

"So you're still doing the club then?" asked Harry. He hadn't heard anything about it recently, but then again, Harry hadn't been around her for three months.

"Of course!" Hermione said eagerly. "I mean, we haven't had as many members since you haven't been around, but I know we'll start making a difference soon."

"Hmmm…" was all Harry could say. He went back to his piece of toast, not looking her in the eyes.

Hermione dropped the paper completely and said, "What's that supposed to mean? You don't think my club is a good idea?"

"I didn't say that," Harry told her warily. He tried to continue eating but Hermione wouldn't let him.

"Then what is it? What do you really think of S.P.E.W?" she demanded.

Harry raised his eyebrow questioningly at her. "You really want my opinion?" Hermione nodded. "You might not like it." She nodded again, less enthusiastically. Harry sighed and said, "I don't think you'll have as easy a time with it as you're expecting. It's going to be really hard getting others to listen to you."

Hermione looked affronted, almost like Harry had slapped her in the face. "Well… you don't know what you're talking about," she stammered.

"Come on now," Harry said calmly. "Look, I agree with you. And I love how compassionate and adamant you are about this. But it's harder for you and me, being raised by Muggles. We don't have slaves anymore; we've learned our lesson. But the wizarding world doesn't know any better."

"But with Dobby's help, I'm sure we could easily convince others," she said. Harry's words seemed to wind down.

"Dobby's… well… most house-elves are different; they don't even think of themselves as slaves. Because it's all they've ever know. You saw how Winky acted at the World Cup. The idea of freedom scares them." Hermione seemed to take Harry's explanations as him trying to put her off. He noticed this and added, "I'm not telling you to stop. I'm just telling you not to expect immediate results when you're dealing with people outside of Hogwarts. I agree that having Dobby around will convince some people."

Hermione simply nodded and smiled at him, before returning to her paper.

"Anything interesting in there?" Harry asked her.

"Yes, actually," she said, not looking up. "Fudge is dead."

Harry perked up with interest. "That's a surprise. You don't reckon Voldemort forgot who was Minister, do you?"

Hermione gave him a look. "Not likely."

"That's still strange though," Harry said, thinking about it. Fudge shouldn't have been any concern to Voldemort. In fact, Voldemort should be thanking him for turning the other way two years ago and letting him get a foothold in his rebuilding. "What else does it say?"

Hermione read down through the rest of the article. "Same as all the other deaths reported… found in his home, Dark Mark in the sky, small signs of a struggle… they have no idea what the motive was."

Harry had just finished his breakfast and levitated his plate over to the sink. "Well, maybe I can find out more later."

"Oh, that's right…" Hermione looked up and checked the clock on the wall. "You should be leaving soon. Do you feel ready?"

Harry shrugged. "As ready as I'll ever be, I suppose. It's not really a big deal, just…" he trailed off. Hermione took notice of the hesitant look in his eye.

"You're doing the right thing Harry," she told him.

"You—" he started to say, but Hermione cut him off.

"I _know_ so," she said.

"You're right," said Harry, standing up. "All right, I shouldn't be more than an hour or so."

"Good luck," Harry heard her say right before he Disapparated.

.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.

Even though it was still fairly early in the morning, the Ministry of Magic was already crowded: people were filing in and out of the elevators and Floos, bustling about the lobby, and talking quickly in huddled groups all around the room. Harry hoped that meant he wouldn't attract too much attention.

Though, being unnoticed proved to be difficult.

As soon as he exited the elevator and stepped into the lobby, one person stood out immediately: the short, squat figure of Dolores Umbridge, standing near the fountain in the middle of the room, having a conversation with several others.

Harry flushed with anger at the sight of her, and he could feel the scars on the back of his hand ache. The fact that Umbridge was still employed by the Ministry was beyond him, whatever it was she now did. The news of what she had done wasn't made public, but he couldn't imagine Dumbledore _not_ informing Fudge of her crimes. Harry quickly turned away and headed for the security desk to get his wand checked.

After doing so, he made his way around the room, keeping as far from the fountain as possible. Though, he couldn't help but notice, with some humor, that Umbridge was standing as far away from the Centaur statue as she could.

Harry was caught up in his brooding over Umbridge while making his way to the elevator, and didn't notice another of his 'enemies'.

"Oh my!" an all-too-familiar voice called out from behind him. "Harry!"

Harry sighed and turned to the clacking of heels approaching him. He felt anger rise in him again as he saw Rita Skeeter running up to him. He hadn't even made it out of the lobby, and already he had run in to two of his more persistent adversaries. In fact, he half-expected Voldemort himself to be waiting on the elevators, the way things were going.

Rita Skeeter was wearing her usual style of garish robes, this time in a shade of lavender. She had a beaming fake smile plastered on her face by the time she caught up with Harry.

"Oh Harry, it's so _good _to see you again!" she exclaimed. "Have time for a quick interview?"

"Piss off," Harry said simply, not in the mood for any of Rita's usual nonsense. He tried to turn and leave, but Rita grabbed his arm.

"Come now, Harry... such language doesn't suit you," she told him, a hint of annoyance evident in her cheerful tone. "Just a few questions for the _Prophet,_ nothing major." _So she's back with the __**Prophet **__then,_ Harry thought. She began to take out a quill and notepad.

"I said _no_," Harry repeated, wrenching his arm away from her. "I'm not really in the mood to have you ruin my reputation today."

Rita's smile faltered a little. "Now, now, Harry, you shouldn't make such unfounded accusations," she said sweetly.

"Unfounded?" Harry asked. "Yeah, we had a nice time working on the piece for the _Quibbler_, but am I supposed to forget all the rubbish you printed three years ago?" he spat.

"Well Harry, I wouldn't call it 'rubbish'," she said. Rita could hear disdain in Harry's voice, and seemed flustered. "I mean, you weren't in your right state of mind, and we could hardly take what you said seriously. I remember what it's like to be young Harry. We sometimes do crazy things for attention or amusement."

"Yeah, that's right!" Harry said with a fake laugh. "Me and Dumbledore decided to take the mick out of everyone by convincing them that their worst nightmare has returned and could be waiting for them around the corner. Pretty funny, wasn't it?"

"I hardly think--"

"I don't care what you think," Harry cut her off. "The fact that you had everyone looking the other way when they could have been preparing for Voldemort means that you're partly responsible for _everyone _he's killed and will kill. But I guess that doesn't matter to you, since you're working for them."

Rita looked shocked at this. "How dare you accuse me of being a Death Eater, you little--"

"I didn't say that," Harry stopped her again. "You're probably too smart to get caught up with Voldemort. But I know you've been working with Lucius Malfoy. How else would Draco have known about your Animagus form, and known to seek you out?"

That piece of information seemed to shut Rita up temporarily. Harry used the opportunity to his advantage. "But I don't really have time to stand here and talk about how horrible a person you are, so you must excuse me." He was about to leave, but paused and said, "I hope this was a good enough interview for you. In fact, feel free to write whatever you want. I have more important things to do than worry about what everyone thinks of me

With that, he turned and headed for the nearest elevator, leaving a fuming Rita Skeeter behind.

Harry took a quick ride down to the first floor, where the Minster's office was located. This level was quite small compared to the others he had visited. When he stepped off, he was immediately confronted by a secretary's desk, sitting in front of a short hallway leading to an ornate wooden door. He noticed that the door was being guarded by two Aurors. To his right was another hallway and a number of doors, but Harry knew the office in front of him was the one he wanted. The Aurors eyed him suspiciously, and one reached into his pocket to grip his wand.

Harry approached the man at the desk in front of him. "I'd like to speak to Minister Scrimgeour please."

The secretary looked instantly amused. "Run along, kid. I'm very busy," he said rudely after allowing himself a chuckle at Harry's statement.

"I'm serious," Harry said, forcing himself to be patient. "I need to see him."

"Look son, you can't just come down here and ask to see the Minister. In fact, he's rarely in his office as it is, and he--"

"Is he in there now?" Harry interrupted him, smiling inwardly as a tinge of red crept up in the secretary's face.

"Well... yes... b-but that's not the point," he stammered. "Look, you can't see the Minister without an appointment.

Harry took a deep breath. "In that case, I should tell you the Minister Scrimgeour has given me a standing invitation to come see him. Ask him if you don't believe me."

It was clear that the other man _didn't_ believe him. He sat back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest. "What did you say your name was?" he asked, looking thoughtfully at Harry.

"I didn't. It's Harry Potter."

The man looked surprised for a moment, but then smirked to himself, as if realising something. "Oh, right, the kid with all the _stories_."

Harry sighed in frustration. "You seem to be the kind of person that doesn't like to be wrong. Why don't you just check with the Minister, so can have the satisfaction of throwing me out."

The secretary considered his words for only a few seconds before he leaned forward to his desk. He grabbed a quill and started scribbling on a blank piece of parchment. When he was done, he set the parchment in a wooden tray on one side of his desk and tapped it with his wand. The note vanished with a faint _pop_.

It didn't take long for another piece of parchment to appear in the tray. The secretary picked it up quickly, almost eagerly, and scanned the scribbled notes. His face turned to a frown when he had finished, and he crumpled the note into a ball before throwing it away. He then gave a quick scowl in Harry's direction and muttered, "The Minister will see you now."

"Thank you."

Harry was laughing to himself at the man's reaction as he walked down the hallway towards the door. When he got there, one of the Aurors stepped forward and drew his wand.

"Just a few scans before you can enter," he said gruffly. He then waved his wand over Harry several times, muttering under his breath. Harry could feel the magic brushing over him, and he assumed the spells were to make sure he wasn't disguised in any way, or under the Imperius.

Once the Auror finished, he backed away and opened the door for Harry. "You can go in now," he said, and Harry nodded in acknowledgment as he passed him and walked into the office.

The office of the Minister of Magic was not a whole lot different than the Head's office at Hogwarts. It was a fairly large, circular room with a grand desk facing the doorway. Many chairs surrounded the desk in a semicircle and several bookcases lined the room, but other than that, the office was rather bare. A fireplace stood on one side of the room, and above it, a portrait of a short man wearing a long, silver wig. Harry didn't get a chance to inspect the room more closely, because the man sitting at the desk stood up and greeted him jovially.

"Harry! This is quite a surprise!" Rufus Scrimgeour exclaimed. "Most unexpected, to be honest. Please, have a seat." He gestured to one of the many chairs in front of his desk, which Harry took. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"A couple things actually," Harry answered. "Well, since it's on my mind, I was wondering if you knew more about what happened with Fudge."

"Yes, that," Scrimgeour said gravely. "Sad, sad business. I assume you read about it in the _Prophet_?"

Harry nodded. "Well, they couldn't exactly give the whole story," Scrimgeour explained, "but he was working on a task I had appointed to him, and You-Know-Who got wind of it."

"Might I ask what it was?" Harry asked.

Scrimgeour paused, not sure if he should be telling Harry the details or not. Eventually, he acquiesced, "We wished to seize the assets of some of the known Death Eaters, in hopes that it would put a damper on the Dark Lord's resources. Fudge was working with Gringotts on that. Word was he was very close to getting the goblins' support, which is not easily attained. We're not sure how You-Know-Who found out, but he made sure the negotiations wouldn't proceed.

This was a very interesting piece of information to Harry. He mulled it over for a moment, and then frowned as something crossed his mind. "That's odd though, isn't it? I mean, the goblins don't normally help us with anything other than personal finance stuff."

"That's true," Scrimgeour said. "The goblins have always been neutral. They run the banks, but the Ministry has never held any power over Gringotts. To even consider Fudge's offer is unheard of. They must sense that You-Know-Who's power could be too much for us, and they could be targeted next."

That gave Harry a lot to think about. Everything that he had learned in History of Magic said that the goblins were very independent and barely cooperative with the wizarding world. He put it in the back of his mind for now, and continued. "The other thing was, I have been considering what you asked of me last year," Harry told him.

"You mean by publicly backing the Ministry?" Scrimgeour asked, his face remaining impassive but his eyes betraying a restrained relief.

Harry nodded. "I've realised that, for whatever reason, I would have a lot of influence on the community. One could almost say I have a responsibility to use that to help."

Scrimgeour wholeheartedly agreed. "I must say, I am quite pleased to hear that," he said, visibly relaxing. "But if I may ask, what changed your mind? If I remember correctly, you were most averse to giving us any sort of help. I got the impression you didn't care much for me."

Harry was slightly taken aback forwardness. "To be honest, not much of that has changed. I still don't think it was appropriate of you to ask a sixteen-year-old to take an active political stance in this." Harry was tiptoeing around the fact that he still wasn't exactly fond of Scrimgeour, but took care not to put it so bluntly. "However," he went on, "If by publicly supporting you and your actions the people will start to feel that they aren't doomed, then I obviously can't ignore that. If every realises that fighting is not a lost cause, they will stand up for themselves, instead of putting the entire burden on the Ministry."

"That's a very mature viewpoint," Scrimgeour said, looking rather surprised. "I, of course, would never ask the general public to join the fight, but raising morale of everyone would make all the difference. I'm glad that we can finally see eye to eye on that. Now, if you would permit me to briefly change the topic and ask you a personal question..."

"Go ahead," Harry said.

"Well, I'm sure you know of some rather... _strange_ arrests of Death Eaters fairly recently. I was merely wondering if you had anything to do with them," Scrimgeour said.

"Between you and me?" asked Harry.

"Of course."

Harry hesitated, but relented and said, "A few of them. Namely Bellatrix Lestrange, Avery and Nott."

Scrimgeour nodded, as if that was what he was expecting. "I must say, I'm impressed. But I must also say that was rather dangerous of you. As the saying goes, 'discretion is the better part of valour'. I suggest you exercise more prudence in the future."

Harry was in no way in the mood to be talked down to by Scrimgeour, Minister of Magic or not. His expression hardened quickly, and Scrimgeour seemed to notice. "About our agreement..." Harry prompted frankly.

"Yes, yes... well, I would prefer you to occasionally speak with the _Daily Prophet_," the Minister said carefully, not wanting to break their temporary truce.

"And I would prefer not to," Harry replied. "You'll understand if I'm hesitant to deal with the _Prophet_, after recent events. I won't give any interviews, but you can quote me whenever you want, saying how good a job I think you're doing and how I agree with your actions."

"That should be acceptable," Scrimgeour conceded. "After all, people will understand your lack of time for proper interviews, with all of your schoolwork."

"Though," Harry added, "I think I should be privy to some information. Such as the plans of yours that I'm agreeing with."

"That seems only fair," Scrimgeour agreed.

Harry went on, "So what have you been doing to fight Voldemort?"

Scrimgeour sat back in his chair and sighed, folding his hands in his lap. "As much as we can at the moment. We've checked all Ministry employees for the Dark Mark or Imperius Curse, and we feel confident that we've removed all of You-Know-Who's men."

"I suppose that's a start," Harry told him. "What about preventing Voldemort's attacks?"

The Minister shook his head. "What can we do? We don't know who he'll attack next. All that can be done is deploying the Aurors and Hit Wizards so that we can respond quickly enough to minimize the damage."

That wasn't good enough in Harry's opinion. Everyone knew the kinds of people that Voldemort targeted. And, of course, it was too large a task to protect all the Muggles and Muggleborns, but everyone also knew who Voldemort's most open enemies were. Namely most of the Order. Of course, the existence of Order of the Phoenix was known by very few, but many of its supporters were known to ardently speak out against Voldemort. He voiced these opinions to Scrimgeour, along with some others.

"And what about regaining control of the Dementors? Or trying diplomacy with the Giants? Or actually _attacking _Voldemort, instead of defending from him?" Harry asked vehemently.

Scrimgeour merely shook his head sadly. "Those are all good in theory Harry, but not in practice. It's not easy for us; we simply don't have the manpower or resources for all of that."

Harry merely stared at him incredulously. This man, the Minister of Magic, should be doing everything in his power to stop Voldemort's power from growing. There should be dozens of countries he could call on for aide if he didn't have the resources. By sitting back and doing practically nothing, he was basically handing Voldemort the country on a silver platter. And for some reason, those words rang out in his head over and over. _It's not easy_.

Scrimgeour seemed to perceive that Harry's whole demeanor had darkened. The Minister had noticeably tensed up and was eyeing Harry rather cautiously. Harry, meanwhile, had decided it was time to leave. He stood up suddenly and said, "I should be off. While, as you can probably tell, I don't agree with your actions, our deal still stands. The people needed to know that this isn't a lost cause." Scrimgeour nodded and Harry continued, "Not to mean any disrespect, but I hope you will consider some of the things I've said. It isn't a lost cause now, but if you continue your passive approach, it may be soon. If I could speak my mind, think about how Rufus Scrimgeour, Head of the Auror Department, would have handled Voldemort. Just because you have more power and more responsibilities doesn't change this particular situation." Harry had taken great care not to make it sound like he was talking down to Scrimgeour. He wanted the Minister to consider his words, and not grow angry and dismiss them as childish and arrogant.

Harry wasn't sure if he had succeeded or not, because Scrimgeour's face remained completely unchanged. After several moments, he said, "Good day, Mr. Potter. Hopefully next time we meet will be under lighter circumstances." Harry took that to mean 'get the hell out of my sight' so he nodded and quickly exited the room.

.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.

Harry hurried back to Grimmauld Place, not wanting to bump into anymore of his enemies. When he returned to the kitchen of Number 12, the first thing he noticed was signs that both his friends were up and about. Harry figured he should go up and find them. They would want to hear about his meeting.

He trudged up the stairs, feeling rather dejected. His talk with Scrimgeour had done nothing to ease his concern over how the new Minister would do his job. It was an odd thought that crept into his head, but Harry wondered why he should keep fighting for a world that wouldn't even fight for itself.

"Harry!" he heard his name called out suddenly.

Harry hadn't been paying attention to where he was going, but he had just passed by the library. He backed up a few steps and saw that Ron and Hermione were sitting at one of the desks, both reading from the same book.

"I was just looking for you two," Harry said as he entered the room. He sat down unceremoniously in a chair opposite them.

Ron raised a questioning eyebrow at him and asked, "How did you expect to find us plodding along and staring at your feet?"

"I take it things didn't go so well?" Hermione asked gently.

Harry shook his head. "Not really."

"So are you going to support them?" Ron asked.

"Yeah, that all went fine," Harry told them. "No, it was what I found out I was supporting." He told them the things Scrimgeour had told him about.

"Well… that seems to be the absolute least he could do," Hermione said delicately.

"Exactly," Harry agreed. "I really thought he would be more active than Fudge was, but he's starting to look just as apathetic. Oh, and speaking of Fudge," Harry started, and then told them what _else_ he had found out.

Hermione seemed to look just as surprised as Harry had been. "You mean the goblins were willing to work with us? That's unheard of."

"So couldn't someone else pick up where Fudge left off?" Ron asked.

"Yeah, I guess," Harry said. "Fudge seemed to be pretty close to getting them to listen. I don't know if Scrimgeour will continue though."

"I don't think it will work," Hermione spoke up. "I mean, the goblins are very self-preserving. They'll know why Fudge was killed. And if they try working with us again, Voldemort will likely know it and could attack them instead."

Harry figured she made a good point. It probably wouldn't do well to press things if Voldemort knew what was going on. It would also make the goblins wary to trust them at all. It was frustrating though, because that had seemed to be the only step Scrimgeour had taken that seemed proactive. And even though it was bold, and dangerous, he had still done it.

"By the way, Harry," Hermione interrupted his thoughts, "Ron and I wanted to ask a favour of you."

"Go ahead."

"Well… we were wondering—and if the answer's 'no', that's fine— but we were hoping we could borrow your Pensieve and watch some of your memories." For some reason Hermione didn't meet his eyes when she asked.

Harry wasn't sure why she was being so hesitant, but he said, "Yeah, that's fine. It's on the desk in my room, and all the memories Dumbledore gave me are in the box beside it."

"No, Harry, that's not what I meant," Hermione said. She went on delicately, "I meant… well, _your _memories."

Harry blanched. "What, er… which ones?" he asked uncertainly.

"Well," Hermione said, wringing her hands together nervously, "just the ones of what happened the ends of the past three school years. Or, at least, the parts we weren't around for." She looked him in the eye, and Harry could tell that she was expecting him to say 'no'. "The thing is, Ron and I were thinking that if we saw exactly what happened, we might notice something important… something you may not have realised or may have forgotten. At the very least, it would give the three of us different opinions to work with."

Harry's instincts were to refuse. Those memories were not things that Harry himself wanted to think about, let alone show to other people. He didn't want to imagine what others would think of him when they watched certain events. Images started to dart through his mind: himself using the Cruciatis on Bellatrix, and Snape, forcing the potion into Dumbledore, trashing Dumbledore's office. He felt himself swell with embarrassment, guilt, and disgust all at once.

But then a voice in the back of his mind reminded him that this wasn't just anyone. It was Ron and Hermione, his two best friends. He knew he could trust them, and understood that they not only wanted the information, but wanted to help share his burden. The fact that knew pretty much what his burdens were comprised of made that realisation a comforting one.

"I know that they're very personal, and you really don't have to do—" Hermione started to say, but Harry cut her off.

"No. No, it's alright. You're right, it could be helpful," he told her. Hermione visibly relaxed when he said this. "Just so long as I don't have to watch as well."

"Of course not."

"All right then," Harry said, standing up.

He led them into his room and sat down at the table before he began adding memories. He put in everything they had asked for. Everything that had happened from when he entered the maze to when he fell asleep in the hospital wing. Everything from when they entered the Hall of Prophecy to when he left Dumbledore's office. Then everything from when he bumped in to Trelawney to reading R.A.B.'s note.

When he was finally done, he turned to his friends and said, "I just want you to know… there's a lot of stuff in there that I'm not proud of. I hope—"

"We understand Harry," Hermione said.

Harry nodded. He got up and headed to out of the room, but stopped in the doorway. He turned back and said, "You'd do well to remind yourself that nothing in there can hurt you." He could see Ron gulp when he said that.

Once he left the room, he headed downstairs, not sure how to pass the time. After a quick lunch, he headed into the drawing room to read some book's he had borrowed from Hogwarts' Restricted Section. He needed something to keep his mind occupied, lest he start thinking about what his friends were watching.

Several hours had passed before the silence of the house was broken. The sun had started to set when he first heard stirring on the floor above. A few minutes later, Harry heard a knock on the door. He looked up to see Ron standing there.

"Done already?" Harry asked. "How was it?"

There was a look of mild shock on Ron's face, and he simply shook his head as he entered the room. "You definitely don't have to worry about me being jealous of you anymore," he said.

Harry grinned slightly, and Ron returned it. "I understand now," Ron went on. "I knew you never gave us the whole story before, and I understand why." He made his way over to the table where Harry was sitting. "Listen, Harry, from now on anything you need from me, you've got it. No matter what."

"Thanks Ron," Harry told him. "That means a lot."

"But that mean's you've got to let me," Ron added. "I'll help you out in any way, but you've got to let me help you."

Harry opened his mouth to protest, but stopped himself, understanding where Ron was coming from. "I'll try," he said. "But I'm sure you understand the danger that follows me around, and why I'm hesitant to put anyone else in that danger."

"Yeah, I guess I can accept that for now," Ron told him. "But we should probably go find Hermione, I'm sure she's gonna want to talk about some things."

"I was afraid you were going to be a little angry," Harry said as they left the room.

"Oh, that," Ron said, apparently knowing exactly which instance was on Harry's mind. Harry had been thinking about when Ron had been attacked by that brain, and Harry couldn't get it off of him and ran off. "I was at first," Ron went on. "But I realised, or, Hermione helped me realise, that the prophecy record was more important. Or at least we thought it was then. And you did leave Neville behind to help me." Harry was relieved to hear this.

Hermione had left Harry's room and returned to the library. She was sitting by the window and watching the sun set when Harry and Ron walked in. At the sound of them, Hermione looked over to the door, but quickly turned around and started wiping her eyes.

"You alright?" Harry asked, sitting down next to her. When she looked back at him, Harry could see that her eyes were slightly red.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she told him with a small smile. "It's just a lot to take in all at once."

"She's right about that, mate," Ron said. "Pretty intense stuff. I even found myself reaching for my wand a few times."

Harry chuckled slightly, despite the situation. "So," he then said, "I guess this clears up some stuff for you." They both nodded. "Like how Cedric's death was my fault."

"You're not still on about that are you?" Ron asked, frowning.

"I was never off it."

"Harry, I thought you were past this," Hermione cut in. "There's no way you could have known what would happen."

"No, there were plenty of ways. I should have noticed something was going on," Harry explained. "I mean, I knew Voldemort was plotting to kill me, thanks to that dream I had over the summer. As soon as my name came out of the Goblet, I should have known that he intended for me to win the Tournament. I should have taken the cup myself and left Cedric out of it."

"But not even Dumbledore foresaw that," Hermione said.

"Well, Dumbledore didn't have a direct link to Voldemort's mind," Harry countered. "You're not going to change my mind on this."

"And I suppose you still think you were responsible for Sirius' and Dumbledore's deaths as well?" Hermione shot back.

"Dumbledore's, no. Sirius'… partly," Harry answered. "Dumbledore should have told me to stay away from the Department of Mysteries and Snape should have taught me Occlumency properly, instead of just throwing me in the deep end." He then sighed heavily and added, "But I should have listened to you when you tried to talk me out of going to the Ministry. And I should have known to go find Snape after we ditched Umbridge instead of running off."

Hermione tried arguing with him for several more minutes before she finely gave up. Ron wisely kept his mouth shut.

"Aren't you going to say something Ron?" Hermione asked shortly, once she realised she couldn't change Harry's mind on her own.

"I don't think so," Ron answered, earning a disapproving snort from Hermione. "Harry's obviously thought this out. It's pretty mature of him to take responsibility like that, and if it makes him work harder to stop You-Know-Who…" he trailed off, allowing the sentence to finish itself. "Besides, I'd rather not make him angry after seeing him demolish Dumbledore's office."

Harry could feel himself redden with embarrassment. "I guess I did go a little overboard," he muttered.

"I'll say," Ron told him. "I didn't think anyone had the guts to yell at Dumbledore like that. I know you got pretty brassed with us the summer before, but that was something else. Mind you, I can't say I wouldn't have done the same thing myself."

Harry relaxed a little when he heard that, but it was short-lived.

"Oh, Harry!" Hermione said quickly, as if she just remembered something important. Harry noticed she looked rather worried. "The prophecy!"

"What about it?"

"You didn't tell us exactly what it meant, you just told us you would have to fight Voldemort in the end," she said hurriedly. "B-but that wasn't all. It said you're the _only_ one that can kill him. And that you _have_ to kill him, or he has to k-kill you." She looked horrified at the thought, and Ron's expression switched to a much graver one.

Harry, on the other hand, merely chuckled. "Come on Hermione, surely _you _of all people didn't buy in to that?"

"But Harry… well, yes, Divination is a bit dodgy, but this is a _real_ prophecy. We know they exist, we've seen all the records," she exclaimed, not understanding why Harry could be so nonchalant.

"And how do you think all those records got there?" Harry asked. "Because there are always witnesses when a prophecy is given. I mean, the one who gives it has no memory of it, so others have to hear it. And they always end up acting on it, because they think they have to. It is people that make them come true, whether they try to or not."

"So wait," Ron spoke up, "are you saying that… I mean, say a prophecy is given and no one's around to hear it. Then it won't come true?"

"No, not really," Harry said. "It's more that… well, what I think is that a prophecy can't be given unless someone else can hear it."

Hermione seemed to calm down a bit, but was still looking skeptical. "Ok. So you're saying that you _don't _have to kill him?" she asked cautiously.

"No, I don't. I don't _have_ to do anything," Harry told her. She still didn't look convinced, so Harry said, "Look, why don't I try to explain it the way Dumbledore did with me."

They both nodded. Ron was still trying to wrap his head around the situation, and Hermione was waiting to be persuaded as to why she shouldn't be worrying herself to death.

"Well, basically Voldemort believes in the prophecy," Harry told them. "That's why he attacked me that night, to get rid of me early on. But according to Dumbledore, when he 'marked' me," he said, pointing to his scar, "he gave me the power to defeat him. So you can see now how he fulfilled it, and is fulfilling it, right? Since he believes he _has _to, he's going to keep coming after me, so I will have to face him sooner or later."

"But not because the prophecy says you have to," Hermione said, finally understanding.

"No. Because he won't rest until I'm dead. And because I want to. Because of what he's done to me."

They both looked back at him, wordlessly telling him that they knew what he had to do. It was really a testament to how much their relationship had grown recently. The old Hermione would have begged and pleaded with him to leave it to someone else. After all, anyone could cast the Killing Curse on Voldemort and destroy his body. But they realised what it meant to Harry to try and defeat Voldemort.

Harry's thoughts were broken up by a huge yawn from Ron. "I'm knackered," he said through another yawn. "I think I'm gonna go have a quick nap. I guess we can talk more later tonight." With that, he got up and left.

"He can't be fazed, huh?" he said to Hermione with a grin.

She gave him a sad smile, but it broke quickly and she looked down at her lap.

"What's wrong?"

Hermione tried to speak a few times, but couldn't find the right words. Instead of answering him, she asked, "How do you do it, Harry?" Harry gave her a questioning look. "I mean, you've been through so many horrible things… you've fought Voldemort half your life. And not only have you dealt with everything better than anyone ever could, you keep going." Her voice was a mixture sorrow and incredulity.

Harry sighed and looked up at her. "I don't know," he said, shaking his head. "I do it because I have to. And because people need me to. I think about Sirius and Dumbledore, and my parents… and I think about how I can't let that happen to you, or Ron, or anyone I care about. And I imagine a world without Voldemort. I'm sure you agree that's something worth fighting for."

.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.

A/N- I wrote another part of this chapter, but it made it a bit long, so it's going at the beginning of the next one. Hopefully that will make me start working on it soon. Review if you want.


	16. Descent

**Chapter 16**

**Descent**

A few days later, Harry, Ron, and Hermione found themselves sitting around the fire in Harry's bedroom. Ginny had just headed back to the Burrow after spending the day with them. Even though Harry wouldn't let anyone leave the house, they still managed to have fun. Ginny took advantage of being away from her mother, and Ron's prefect status, to hex her brother as much as she wanted. She spent much of the day chasing after Ron, following his many smarmy remarks, while Ron ducked and yelled about Ministry restrictions on underage magic.

"Isn't he right?" Hermione had asked, but Harry told her, "No, they wouldn't know who's doing magic, just that it's being done. And since this is my house and I'm of age, I guess I'm supposed to make sure it doesn't happen. 'Course, I don't even know if the Ministry can tell, the house is still a secret."

The whole day, Harry had forced himself not to think about the outside world, and just enjoy his time with his friends. He had an awful feeling that he might not get many more opportunities like this.

Now that Ginny had left, Harry decided they should get some actual work done. "Ok, so we all know where we stand, right? We're looking for something of Gryffindor's and something of Ravenclaw's," Harry said, wanting to make sure, once again, that they were on the same page.

"And we still don't have enough information on Ravenclaw's possession yet," Hermione added. "And Gryffindor's only known possession, you have." Harry nodded along with her.

"And my head still hurts," Ron added, rubbing the back of his head. Ginny thought it would be funny to make Ron grow several pairs of antlers.

"That's what you get for teasing your sister, Ronald," Hermione told him shortly.

"Hey, Harry," Ron said, ignoring her, "I thought you told us You-Know-Who's snake was a Horcrux as well."

"Yeah, that's what Dumbledore had thought," Harry told him. "But I don't think he was right. I mean, Nagini is eventually going to die, so it would be a waste to use her. Voldemort's smarter than that."

"Oh, and remember what he said to the Death Eaters in the graveyard?" Hermione spoke up. Apparently something had just clicked with her. "When he was in hiding? He said he possessed snakes, and it greatly reduced their lifespan. And he was just a soul then, so putting another piece of his soul into a snake would do the same thing."

Harry hadn't thought that deep into it, but Hermione's reasoning made perfect sense. Her brilliance never ceased to amaze him. Ron was also thinking along the same lines.

"How'd you get so smart Hermione?" he asked.

"Because I read, instead of catching Bludgers in the head," Hermione said simply.

"Fair enough."

"So," Harry went on, "we have no idea what we're looking for yet, but that might not matter. If we can just figure out where to look."

Hermione began mentally listing the Horcruxes they had found and where they were located. When she counted them all up, she said, "Ok, there were ones at Riddle Manor, Gaunt's house, that cave, and in Lucius Malfoy's possession. Harry, you said Voldemort grew up in an orphanage, right? Do you think he might have gone back there?"

Harry considered it while Hermione explained her thoughts. "I mean, it was the first place he witnessed magic. It was where he first learned he was a wizard. He's hid them at places that are very important to him right?"

"Yeah, but I don't think he would have gone back to the orphanage," Harry said, disagreeing with her. "He hated it there. It made him feel like a Muggle. And it reminded him that his mother had abandoned him there." He could see Hermione's mind racing through all the information she had, and she eventually agreed with him.

"What about Hogwarts?" Ron asked. "He loved the school more than anything else, right? You think he could have snuck in and hid one there?"

"I'd say Hogwarts would be at the top of his list of places to hide one," Harry said, but added, "but there's nowhere he could put one without Dumbledore finding… it…" He trailed off, at that instant realising there was an ideal place for that. A place where Dumbledore couldn't find it, because he couldn't get to it.

"The Chamber of Secrets," Hermione voiced Harry's thought, coming to the same comprehension at the same moment.

Ron groaned when he hear that. "Not back there."

"It perfect," said Hermione. "Most people don't even believe it exists. And even the ones that do, most don't know where it is. In fact, save for the three of us and Ginny, the only people who know its location are McGonagall and your parents, Ron." Ron didn't look at her when his name was mentioned. He looked deep in thought.

"Yeah, and none of them can open it. Only me," Harry picked up with her thoughts. "All right, we'll check it out when we get back to school."

"Why wait?" Hermione asked. "Why not go before the holidays are over, so there's no one around."

"I guess," Harry said half-heartedly. "Ok, I'll owl McGonagall in the morning and ask if we can go back a few days early."

"Hey Harry," Ron spoke up, "you know how Ginny said she wanted to come with us next time we searched for one? Well, I think we should leave her out of this." Harry and Hermione both gave him discerning looks. "No, I'm not being the over-protective big brother here," he said, raising his hands in innocence. "It's just, she's got a lot of bad memories from that place. I don't think _she'll_ want to go back."

"You're right about that," Harry said. "I'm not too keen on going either."

"Yeah, but _you_ have to," Ron told him. "You're our fearless leader."

"Er… right."

.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.

"You sure you're ready?" Harry asked once again.

"Yes, Harry," Hermione replied, sounding agitated.

"Er… yeah, I think so," said Ron, with much less conviction.

It was two days before the start of term and the three of them were standing outside Moaning Myrtle's washroom on the second floor. Harry really wasn't looking forward to going down into the Chamber of Secrets. He knew the basilisk was dead, but he had no idea how deep the Chamber extended, and what could be waiting down there. That's why he wanted to make absolutely sure that his friends were prepared.

"Come on then, let's get it over with," Hermione said, pushing past them and opening the door.

"Sure she's confident, she wasn't there last time," Ron muttered.

"Maybe it won't be so bad," Harry told him as he made to follow Hermione. "I mean, we were a lot younger then."

The washroom looked exactly the same as it always had. No one ever used it, so there was no need to clean or repair it. Hermione was waiting in front of the sink they would use to enter the Chamber.

"Myrtle?" Harry called out. There was no answer. He had hoped to have the ghost be a lookout for them, keeping anyone else out of the room but she didn't seem to be in her usual spot. "She must be wandering the castle somewhere."

Harry settled for casting several locking charms on the door and hoping that no one would come by or bother with this washroom. It wasn't like anyone willingly came in the room anyway.

Harry walked over to the sink where the Ron and Hermione were standing. He looked at the snake etched on the tap and focused on it before muttering, "_Open_" in Parsletongue.

Hermione took a step back when the tap started to glow, and gasped when the entire sink disappeared, leaving an open pipe in its place. After judging the look on Ron's face and realising that was supposed to happen, she walked up and peered down into the pipe.

"How deep does it go?" she asked, squinting but seeing nothing but darkness.

"Very," Harry told her. "I'll go first." Hermione moved out of the way as Harry walked up to the gaping hole in the floor. "By the way," he added to Hermione in an afterthought, "the landing is a bit rough." He then jumped into the pipe and vanished from their sight.

The ride was just as Harry had remembered it. The twisting and turning, and the lights coming from other pipes branching into his own were dizzying. It was very similar to the carts at Gringotts, although not nearly as safe. At least at Gringotts, he knew the carts could slow down and stop themselves. He closed his eyes to shut out the disorienting sights, until the pipe leveled off.

As soon as he flew out into the tunnel, he used his Quidditch training to twist his body and hit the ground in a roll, softening the impact. After a second, he stood up and got his bearings. The tunnel was just as Harry had remembered it: fairly small and too dark to see a yard in front of you.

A few moments later, Harry heard a rushing sound behind him and turned to see Hermione come tumbling out of the pipe. Harry walked over to her and pulled her up to her feet. She looked a little wobbly, but seemed unhurt.

"You all right?" Harry asked.

"Yeah, I think so," Hermione said. She then waved her wand over Harry, vanishing all the slime and filth he had picked up on the way down.

"Thanks," he said, and Hermione nodded before doing it to herself.

Another rattling noise from the pipe told them Ron was coming. He managed to come out more gracefully than Hermione had. As soon as he picked himself up, he glanced around and shuddered as memories started coming back to him.

"Let's go," Harry told them, igniting his wand and starting down the tunnel. Hermione walked alongside him, also holding her lit wand aloft, and Ron followed right behind them, constantly checking over his shoulder.

The only sounds Harry could hear were the faint dripping of water and Ron's heavy breathing. In truth, Harry felt just as edgy as Ron did, but he was doing his best to keep a cool head. It was difficult though; the mood of this place didn't have much of a calming effect.

A few minutes later, they reached the huge rock pile from the cave-in Lockhart had caused. Harry kneeled down in front of the small gap in the rocks that he had used last time. "Can you believe we used to be that small?" he asked, realising immediately that they wouldn't be able to fit through the same hole again. "We're going to have to widen it a bit."

Ron raised his wand, no doubt to start blasting rocks out of the way, but Hermione grabbed his arm and whispered harshly, "Wait!" She was looking straight up at the ceiling. She had noticed the huge cracks in the tunnel above them. "You'll just make it worse, and probably kill us as well."

"Then what's you're idea?" Ron asked.

She was now looking all around the tunnel, eying the entire pile of rocks. "We need to remove some rocks, but not by blowing them up. That might shake loose even more." She stepped over to the gap and examined it closely. "Maybe if I…" she started before aiming her wand at the rocks below the gap and saying, "_Evanesco_."

One of the large rocks disappeared into thin air. They all held their breath for a few seconds, but nothing happened. "It's still stable," she said, and began vanishing the rocks one by one until the gap had widened enough for them to fit through.

Before anyone could go through, Harry stopped them. "Wait a second, you two," he said. They both looked at him as though he was going to tell them to stay behind, but Harry said, "Look, I don't know what we're going to find in there, so we should all be on our guard. Stay together and keep your eyes open, all right?" They both nodded, and Harry added, "All right, let's get this over with."

He got down and cautiously climbed through the hole. Once he made it through, Harry got up and lit his wand again. He jumped slightly when he saw the huge coils of snake skin, and quickly admonished himself for being so tense. Though, before anyone else could see it, Harry got rid of the imposing scales.

Once Ron and Hermione made it through, the three of them continued down the tunnel, moving slowly through the twists and turns. It was difficult to see very far in front of them, but, if Harry remembered correctly, they were nearly to the doorway.

Sure enough, the next turn brought them face to face with the large stone slab signaling the end tunnel. Harry wasted no time, hissing in Parsletongue to give them access to the next part of the Chamber.

The trio entered the room and made their way forward. Ron seemed awed by the giant serpent statues lining the walls, and Hermione was constantly checking in every direction. She was, no doubt, looking for hidden doors or tunnels, or anything worth checking out.

"Hey Harry," Harry hear Ron say from right behind him, startling him slightly.

"Yeah?"

"I was just wondering how you were planning on getting us out of here once we're done," Ron said, his head still turned to inspect the large snakes bearing down on them.

Harry stopped when he realised what Ron was asking. "That's a _very_ good question," he said, having completely forgotten that the only way they had made it out last time was with the help of Fawkes. He had no idea where the Phoenix was now. And without him, Harry couldn't think of any way to get out of the Chamber. The pipe they entered from was too steep and slick to climb up by hand, and he was blanking on any way to ascend it magically.

"You mean we don't have a way out?" Hermione asked, breaking his thoughts. She had stopped walking as well.

"Er—well, not at the moment," Harry said ruefully. He ignored the disapproving and horrified looks he was getting from Hermione and Ron respectively. "Look, I'm sure there's another way out of here. Slytherin and Voldemort managed it, and I'm pretty sure _they_ didn't have a Phoenix with them."

Harry started walking again. The dimly lit hallway wasn't really the ideal place for conversations or brainstorming. He heard Ron and Hermione following behind him, putting aside their concerns for the moment. The three of them continued on, nearing the end of the chamber. Harry could tell they were almost there even before he could see the great stone statue of Slytherin. The pungent smell of decaying flesh hit him like a slap in the face and he grimaced.

Ron smelled it as well, and moaned, "Blimey, what _is _that?"

"I guess that's what a basilisk smells like when it's been dead and rotting for five years," Harry said, pinching his nose to escape the offensive odor.

After another minute, the aforementioned creature swam into focus, as did the monkey-like statue of Slytherin. The sight of the giant snake sent a chill down Harry's spine and brought forth memories he didn't really care to recall.

"You fought _that_?" Ron asked incredulously when he saw the size of the basilisk. He looked wary of getting too close to it.

"Me and Fawkes did," Harry replied.

"It's kind of unnerving," Ron said. "I'm afraid it's gonna come back to life. Besides, the smell is horrendous. Can't you get rid of it?"

Harry raised his wand to try to vanish the snake, but Hermione stopped him. "Wait, not yet," she said, grabbing his arm. When Harry looked at her expectantly, she explained, "Remember when you told us how mad Slughorn went about Hagrid's spider? Maybe basilisk venom is valuable as well. Or any part of it. Who knows how often people come across these… things, and have a chance to gather ingredients."

"Yeah, all right," Harry agreed. "But can you at least do something about the stench?"

Hermione stepped forward and furrowed her brow, thinking over what she needed to do. She then began waving her wand and muttering under her breath, so that Harry couldn't tell exactly what she was casting. He watched as a blue, translucent barrier appeared around the great snake. Not long after, the air in the room cleared up.

"That ought to keep it from decomposing further," Hermione said, lowering her wand. She then turned and looked up at the massive statue at the end of the chamber. "He certainly did himself justice, didn't he?" she remarked. "It looks like something out of Greek mythology."

"You reckon we should blow it up?" Harry asked her, somewhat serious.

Hermione simply rolled her eyes at him. "It _is_ technically part of the school."

She continued studying the statue so Harry turned away and walked toward the basilisk. About halfway there, he froze when something on the ground caught his eye: a large ink stain. It was actually hard to miss. The dark, black ink had seeped into the stone over the years, but didn't look as though it had faded at all. Harry reached down and found a few places to still be sticky.

A few feet away, he found the long, white fang he had used to destroy the diary. He picked it up and ran his fingers over it.

"Is all that from the diary?" Ron asked, standing next to him and looking down at the ink on the floor. "And where did you get that?" he asked again, noticing the fang in Harry's hand. "Did you break that off last time?"

"Yeah, actually, all I had to do was jam it into my arm and twist," Harry told him with a grin. He slipped the sharp fang into his pocket while standing up. "This place gives me the creeps," he muttered. "Let's get out of here as soon as we can." Ron merely nodded.

"Hey, Hermione," he called across the room, "did you see any doors or passageways on the way?" She shook her head. "Me neither. If there is something here, it must be hidden. Let's start looking." She agreed, and walked over to one side of the room, waving her wand over the wall and floor.

"Tell me if you find anything," Harry said to Ron as he moved over to the opposite wall. He paused for a moment, clearing his mind and reaching out with his senses to feel for any magic. Not finding anything right away, he began working his way around the room. He checked each inch of the wall as he went, but didn't feel anything, save for the spell Hermione had placed on the basilisk. He could tell from Hermione's frustrated groans and Ron's string of colourful language that they weren't having any luck either.

Harry eventually made his was back to the statue of Slytherin. For some reason, Harry got a funny feeling when he stood in front of it. He couldn't feel and magic coming from it, but he just _knew _there was something there. He stood in between Slytherin's feet and tried all the Revealing spells he knew on the section of stone robes, but to no avail. He tried vanishing and transfiguring the stone as well, but got no results.

He had all but given up when he got one last idea. Harry leaned close to the stone and whispered in Parsletongue, "_Open up_." Nothing happened. "_Let me in_," he tried again, but still got nothing. "Er—_I hate Gryffindor_," he said jokingly, trying not to let his frustration get the better of him. As expected, there was no change. Harry tried any other phrases he thought might help, but had no luck.

Sighing, he sat down on the cold stone, racking his brain to come up with something. The statue merely looked down at him, almost tauntingly. _Wait a second_, he thought suddenly, _the basilisk was hiding in the mouth of the statue, and Riddle called it out. Maybe I could say what he said_.

He stood back up and pressed his wand tip to the stone. "Now, what was it that he said… something like, _Speak to me Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts Four_."

The reaction was instantaneous: from where his wand was touching, magic spread out in all directions, giving life to statue. It was still a dull gray colour, but that small patch of robes that was once stone, was now soft cloth. Harry pushed it aside to reveal a dark hallway.

"I think I found something," he announced to his friends. Once they joined him, Harry walked past the shroud and into the passageway, lighting his wand again. It was just wide enough for one person to stand comfortably. Harry walked forward cautiously, the sleeves of his robes brushing audibly against the rough stone. Hermione and Ron followed a few feet behind him.

The passage turned out to be fairly short. It wasn't long before it ended, opening into a tiny chamber, about half the size of a Hogwarts classroom. The room was almost completely bare. No portraits or tapestries adorned the walls. No sculptures or ornate carvings were wrought into the stone. The only thing was two granite figures in the middle of the room.

Harry recognised the first one immediately: Salazar Slytherin, to scale, standing in front of the other figure, looking down with a wicked grin etched on his face. Harry took a few steps closer to get a better look at them, and was appalled when he identified the second form. It was Godric Gryffindor.

The other founder was kneeling in front of Slytherin, prostrated, and offering his palms upwards. And there, in Gryffindor's hands—

"Is that what I think it is?" Harry heard Hermione whisper from right beside him.

"I think so."

It was a beautiful amulet. Cast from solid gold with an enormous, multi-faceted ruby set in the center. The gem reflected the light from Harry's wand and bathed the whole room in an odd glow. Harry moved a few steps closer to admire the artifact.

"That was supposed to have been destroyed centuries ago," Hermione spoke up again. "Before Gryffindor even died. In fact, he was the one who wrote the tale of how it was lost."

Harry had already realised this. "He must have been lying. For whatever reason."

"So let's take it then, and get out of here," Ron said from Harry's other side. He walked forward to do just that.

"Wait!" Harry hissed, throwing an arm across Ron to stop him. They were still a few yards from the stone figures, but Harry had just sensed something that told him they couldn't get any closer. Still holding Ron back, he waved his wand in front them and muttered, "_Revelio_."

As soon as he had cast the spell, a wall of glowing red encircled the statues, extending from the floor to the ceiling. It wasn't more than a foot in front of them, distorting their view of the figures, and of what they needed. Ron instinctively backed away, and Harry flicked his wand, canceling the spell.

"What was that?" Ron asked hesitantly.

"I think," Harry said, still looking in front of him, "it was a Proximity Charm. If anything crosses it, Voldemort will know immediately."

"So how do we get past it?" Ron asked.

"We don't," Hermione answered before Harry could.

"Ok, then can you remove the spell?" Ron asked again.

Harry shook his head. "Not without alerting Voldemort," he said. "The only way to get rid of it is to have something cross it. And I wouldn't put it past Voldemort to have a way to get down here very quickly. He would want to know how someone discovered this place."

"I guess," Ron said. "But then how are we going to get that amulet if we or it can't get past that charm?"

"I've got an idea."

Harry turned around and walked over to the sharp edge where the hallway met the wall of the room. "_Sectumsempra_," he said, tracing his wand in a semicircle along the corner of the wall. His spell easily sliced through the thick stone, until a fist-sized piece of rock fell loose into Harry's other hand. Ron watched in interest, while Hermione seemed to understanding already what Harry was doing.

Harry then turned his wand to the rock he had just cut and focused hard on what he needed. Delicately and arduously, he transfigured it into a replica of Gryffindor's talisman. The finished product looked exactly as Harry had remembered the amulet from the books he had seen it in, but he deiced to check with Hermione just to be safe.

"The gold needs to be a little brighter, and the chain isn't quite this thick," she said as she looked it over. "And the ruby has more facets." She made as many changes as she could remember, looking painstakingly close to every bit of the replica before she was satisfied. She handed back to Harry and asked, "Are you sure this will work?"

Harry hesitated for a moment. "I hope so." He stood in front of the statues, holding the replica in front of him. Taking a deep breath and concentrating, he cast a Switching Spell on the amulet in his hand, replacing the real one for his fake.

The magic had worked just as it was supposed to. The real amulet appeared in Harry's hand, though he almost dropped it, since it was much heavier than the rock had been. That part wasn't nearly as important though. He closed his eyes and concentrated until he could feel the magic in the room again. And sure enough, the Charm Voldemort had placed was still present and undisturbed. Harry let out a breath he hadn't realised he was holding.

"It worked," he told his friends, sighing in relief. And what was more, when he was feeling the magic around him, the chilling feeling that the amulet gave him confirmed that it was another Horcrux.

"Great," Ron said, sounding just as relieved as Harry felt. "So let's get out of here."

Harry was turning the amulet over in his hand, examining the giant ruby and the many engravings on the sides and back of it. The light reflecting from the gem was alluring, mesmerising him, almost calling out to him.

"Harry?" someone called out his name faintly, as if from miles away. A few moments later, something grabbed his arm and shook him roughly.

Harry snapped out of it, looking up to see Hermione standing in front of him. "You all right?" she asked softly.

Harry shook his head vigorously to clear his thoughts. "Yeah, I was just…" he trailed off, not sure what had just happened. "We should get going."

He led his friends back down the hallway and out into the chamber. Once they had made it through, there was an odd scraping sound, and Harry looked back to see the entrance sealing itself, leaving nothing but solid rock.

"I guess we can go back up to my room and try removing the soul fragment," Harry suggested.

However, Hermione didn't agree. "I think we should stay down here," she said, ignoring Ron's moans of protest. "Just in case something goes wrong, there's plenty of protection here."

Harry was as ready to leave the Chamber as Ron was, but reluctantly agreed with his other friend. "All right then. But I think you should do it," he said, handing the amulet to her. "After all, you're the best with Enchantments."

Hermione didn't take it right away. "Are you sure, Harry? I mean, you trust me with this?"

"Of course," he replied. "Like I said… you know much more about Enchantments than I do. After all, I didn't do so well with Hufflepuff's cup." Hermione's eyes flicked over to the thin scar running across Harry's eye. She eventually relented and took the artifact from him. He then told her, "The piece of soul is held there by another Enchantment. If you remove it, it will release the fragment." Hermione nodded and began.

Harry and Ron sat nearby as she worked, giving her assistance whenever she needed it. Harry had to admit, he was right to let her work on the Horcrux. She was much more thorough and efficient than Harry had been with Hufflepuff's cup. After half an hour, beads of sweat began forming on Hermione's forehead, but she showed no signs of being in trouble. Harry knew not to make a sound and break her concentration.

They didn't wait much longer before Hermione let out a deep breath and sat back. Harry hadn't realised how tense she had been until he saw her relaxed.

"Is that it then?" Ron asked when she didn't say anything right away.

"Almost," answered Hermione. She reached up to wipe the sweat from her brow. "All that's left is the Horcrux. Sorry it took so long, but I wanted to make sure I didn't destroy it. Voldemort left some pretty nasty spells for whoever found this."

"Same with the cup," Harry told her. "But I guess we should consider ourselves lucky, with the relative ease we've had, and the fact that all of Dumbledore's wisdom couldn't save him."

"I guess Voldemort wasn't expecting another Parsletongue to come along," she added.

Hermione went back to work to remove the soul piece. She waved her wand over the amulet and tapped it several times, muttering something under her breath, while Harry held his own.

All of the sudden, there was a loud _crack_ followed by a steady hissing coming from the Horcrux. Harry had been expecting this, and grinned at Hermione, who had just looked over at him to make sure she hadn't done anything wrong. Her eyes were wide with shock and uncertainty, but she relaxed when she saw that Harry was still calm.

Harry felt a chill sweeping over him as the hissing continued, something else he had expected. The others tensed up when they felt it, sensing the evil coming from the amulet.

But then something happened that Harry wasn't ready for. The chilling feeling seemed to intensify, like a hand made of ice gripping his heart. He looked back and forth between Ron and Hermione, but neither of them had changed. They were both looking at the amulet, with apprehension, but not the panic that Harry felt. He gripped his chest and tried to fight of the smothering feeling, but found himself unable to.

The last thing he remembered was losing his balance and falling backwards before everything went black.

.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.

"_Not this place again."_

_He was standing in a dark hallway. One he recognised immediately. It was completely bare, save for a heavy door at the end. Harry had no idea what he was doing there, or how he had even got there. He knew he hadn't come willingly, as it was the absolute last place he wanted to be. His mind was screaming out to leave, but he couldn't move his body. He couldn't feel anything. Every attempt he made to turn around was futile._

_And then, his body __**did**__ move. But not from Harry's control. He started slowly walking forwards, towards the doorway, with Harry unable to stop himself. He blinked._

_He was in a completely different room. It was just as dark as the hallway, but filled with rows and rows of shelves, each one stretching all the way to the ceiling. And resting on them… he blinked again._

He was in the Hospital Wing. Though it was too dark outside to see the room clearly, he could tell. He had been here so many times, he knew the feel of the beds and recognised the silhouettes around him.

Harry brought his hands up and rubbed his eyes, trying to figure out what had happened. He could remember being in the Chamber of Secrets, finding the Horcrux, and watching Hermione try to destroy it. And then he had the strangest dream.

Very carefully, he lifted himself into a sitting position and looked around the room. His eyes were still adjusting to the darkness and he had to squint, but he could clearly see that the room was empty. He found his wand on the table beside his bed and lit it so he could check his watch. _Two o'clock_. That meant, assuming Ron and Hermione brought him up to the Hospital Wing as soon as he passed out, that he had been unconscious for about six hours.

Harry tried to clear his mind but found himself unable to escape from the dream he just had. It was so odd, unlike a dream at all. He remembered being in the Department of Mysteries, in the room with the prophecies. But the last time he had seen something like that in his sleep was when Voldemort was dreaming about that very same thing.

_So was it another of his dreams? _Harry thought. _Or was it a warning? My mind trying to tell me something was wrong?_ He couldn't just let it go as a weird dream. He knew it was something more, and felt compelled to unravel it. Harry needed to find out what was going on. As much as he didn't want to, he needed to go to the Ministry.

Harry examined his body to make sure he wasn't physically injured in any way, but found nothing wrong. Only a little fatigue. He swung his legs around and off the bed before standing up cautiously. Whatever had happened to him down in the Chamber hadn't affected him in any lasting way. He quickly threw on his robes and snuck out of the room.

Even though the students hadn't returned from Christmas break yet, Harry was still careful when he made his way through the halls. He did well to balance his combination of stealth and speed, but as the looming dread his dream had caused increased, he found himself moving faster and faster.

By the time he had made it out of the castle, he had broken in to a full sprint, tearing down the lawn towards the main gates. Once past them and outside the wards, he Disapparted.

When his feet touched the ground again, he was standing in the Ministry atrium. As he had hoped, the room was completely empty. After a quick ride on the lift and then down a set of stairs, Harry found himself in the hallway he had seen so many times in his dreams. He would have loved to turn back and return to Hogwarts, but he felt drawn forward. He gathered up his courage and entered the door.

He was now in the circular room the many doors leading to different areas of study. Just like last time, the room started to spin, disorienting him with the flickering of blue torches rapidly passing by. Once it stopped, Harry looked around at the identical doors, and decided to try something he had been thinking of. He remembered last time when he was chasing Bellatrix and he shouted out for the exit, to which the room obliged. Not wanting to take the time opening each door, he decided to try asking again.

"Er—the Time Chamber?" he said uncertainly.

Almost immediately, as luck would have it, the door behind him to his left creaked open. Harry turned to see a sparkling light coming from the open doorway, telling him it was the right one.

He muttered a thanks to the room, just to be on the safe side, and walked through the door. Not surprisingly, everything had been repaired from when Harry had last been there. Despite the fact that the whole department brought up an abundance of bad memories, part of him wished he could explore the other room. It was definitely a fascinating place to be, and held a great many secrets, but at the moment Harry wanted to simply check things out and leave. That, and he was too worried about being caught. Very little was known about the Unspeakables, and it didn't seem like the kind of job where you worked normal hours.

Harry deftly snuck around the room, past the crystal bell jar, and through the next door. He was now in the Hall of Prophecy, surrounded by towering shelves filled with hundreds of small, glass balls. He took a quick look around to get his bearings, and then headed down the numbered shelves towards row ninety-seven.

When he reached it, Harry froze in disbelief. He lifted his glasses and rubbed his eyes to make sure he was seeing things accurately. And he was. He looked around wildly, as if to find some explanation as to what was going on, but none came. He tried to figure out what was wrong, but nothing was. In fact, everything was exactly how it should have been.

Despite the fact that Harry and his friends had destroyed several shelves, and all the prophecies they held, they were all standing there, completely intact. And each one of the prophecies was resting undisturbed on the shelves. He walked down the row, inspecting it carefully. For some unexplained reason, all the recordings had been restored and put back in their places.

All except one.

Harry stopped again, standing right in front of where his prophecy should have been, but it was gone. He checked the yellow label to make sure he was in the right place. And he found himself not the least bit surprised that his prophecy was the only one missing.

.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.

"Well they're records, right? So there must be someone that makes them."

Harry thought about the question for a moment. Not long after making his discovery, he had left the Ministry and returned to his bed in the Hospital Wing, feeling rather sick. He had managed to get some sleep, and the first thing he did upon waking was seek out Ron and Hermione to tell them what had happened. They had decided to retreat to Harry's room for further discussion.

"I don't think I understand," Harry said.

"Well," Hermione went on, "there's a record for every prophecy made, right?"

"I guess so."

"Then that must mean there is someone working in the Department of Mysteries that makes the records," she explained. "Or they have some device that does it. But someone has to operate it. That's how they get the records in the first place, and replace any that are lost."

Harry seemed to get what she was saying. "Maybe."

"Well we know why all the ones we destroyed were put back," Ron spoke up. "But not why Harry's was missing."

"There's only one explanation," Hermione said.

Harry knew that the only ones who could lift a prophecy from its resting place were the people to which it referred. "Voldemort has it," he said simply. "I guess that explains my dream." Hermione and Ron looked at him oddly, and Harry realised he hadn't told them _why_ he had known to go to the Ministry. He told them about it. "Not sure if I was seeing through his eyes or what," he added.

"So what do you think will happen now?" Ron asked after a moment. "I mean, now that he's heard the whole prophecy."

"No idea," answered Harry. "I mean, he believes in it doesn't he? So he's going to come after me. But I don't know if he'll do it now and get it over with, or wait until he's positive he won't lose."

There was a pregnant pause in the conversation. Hermione and Ron seemed to be thinking the same thing. It was Hermione who spoke up first. "You seem awfully nonchalant about this, Harry."

Harry merely shrugged. "All I need to focus on right now is finding that last Horcrux. Nothing else matters until we get rid of them all." They agreed with him and didn't press the issue. "That reminds me," Harry went on, "what exactly happened yesterday?"

"You gave us a right scare is what," Ron told him.

Hermione sighed at Ron's complete lack of tact. "I think you had a bad reaction to the soul fragment," she told him gently. "As soon as it released, I looked over to see you fall unconscious. We couldn't rouse you so we had to take you to see Madam Pomfrey."

"Yeah and it was hell getting out of there without your help," Ron said.

"Did Madam Pomfrey know what happened to me?" asked Harry.

Hermione shook her head. "She was baffled. She said nothing was physically wrong with you. It was like you were in a coma, but she couldn't find any medical or magical cause for it. All we could do was wait until you came around."

"I guess it was worth it in the end," Harry said. Setting on the table next to him was their most recent find. He picked up the jeweled talisman and turned it over, admiring the fine craftsmanship that went in to it. Harry was quite relieved that Hermione had done such a good job with it. It would have been a shame for something like this to be destroyed or damaged.

"So just one more then?" Ron said, breaking up his thoughts.

"I hope so."

.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.

Much later that night, after several hours in the library, Harry parted with Ron and Hermione and headed up to the Astronomy Tower for some fresh air. It had almost become a habit of Harry's to visit the tower when he had a lot on his mind. Being there calmed him down, allowing him to clear his thoughts or see things more clearly in his mind.

It was still quite cold out, but the biting wind that had been prevalent for the past few days had vanished, leaving the landscape eerily calm. Of course, even the slightest breeze would be invisible to him, as the trees were so heavy with snow. The sky above was completely overcast with dull gray clouds blocking out most of the moonlight.

Harry leaned against the stone battlements and sighed, his breath rising clearly in front of him. Off to his left, plumes of smoke were visible coming from a few houses down in Hogsmeade. Most of the damage from the attack at Halloween had been repaired and Harry was happy to see some of the windows lit up. Last he heard, there were only a handful of villagers still staying in the castle.

His eyes had moved over to the Quidditch pitch and he began thinking about how much he would like to get on his Firebolt sometime soon, when something back in Hogsmeade caught his eye. He could have sworn he saw a flash of green light outside one of the shops. He stood up straight and narrowed his eyes, watching intently for something else.

And there was another flash; from the same spot, a bright red light flared up. It had to be someone using magic. He kept his eyes peeled on that exact spot, trying to figure out why someone was out in the street casting spells at this hour. Another flicker of red, and another. Half a dozen more. It was coming from more than one person now.

Harry's mind was turning over as he watched. _It could just be two drunks having a row…_he thought. The spells were flying more rapidly now. _Or it could be Death Eaters_. Whatever it was, Harry decided to check it out. The fact that it could be Death Eaters was enough to make him go all the way down there. And someone could be hurt.

He ran back to the staircase, taking the steps three at a time. Once down on the sixth floor, he tore down the hall and into his room, grabbed his broomstick, and flew straight out the window.

When he landed in Hogsmeade, he hopped off and sprinted down the street to where he knew the magic was coming from. He was rather surprised that he was led to the Hog's Head pub. Slightly out of breath, he slipped down the alleyway on one side of the building and headed towards the front, keeping his ears open.

When he reached the corner of the pub, he stopped and listened to the frustrated conversation happening by the door.

"What the bloody hell are you waiting for?" a man asked harshly. His voice was muffled slightly.

"The old codger locked the door!" another man shot back.

"So _unlock_ it!"

"What do you think I'm trying to do? I'm still disoriented from that spell he hit me with."

"Well you better open this door soon… I don't think the Dark Lord will be happy if we get caught 'cause that blighter has a quicker wand than you."

"Why don't you just sod off and let _me _do this?"

_So they're definitely Death Eaters_, Harry thought. He didn't recognise their voices, which hopefully meant they weren't some of Voldemort's more powerful followers. It sounded like there were only two of them, and they were concentrating on breaking into the pub. Harry was planning on ambushing them when he heard another voice.

"Well, well, well. Looks like Potter got wind of something and came down to play the hero," a gruff voice whispered from right behind him.

Harry froze. So now there were _three_ Death Eaters, and one of them had his wand pressed into Harry's back. He mentally chastised himself for being so careless. His mind was racing, going through his options. Since he was wearing a heavy cloak, he casually tried to reach for his own wand.

"Don't even think about it Potter," the man behind him said, reading his attempt immediately.

Harry stopped, but tried another idea. He closed his eyes and focused on a point several feet behind him before using wandless magic to create a faint _pop_ in the air. The rustling right behind him told Harry that his assailant had turned to see what the noise was.

Harry quickly threw his elbow as hard as he could behind him, connecting with the Death Eater's face. Satisfied with the moan of pain he had elicited from the other man, he dropped his hand down, grabbed the Death Eater's wrist, and twisted.

He heard a wand drop softly to the snow, before its owner fell to his knees, clutching his wrist. Harry spun around, drew his wand, and Stunned the other man, hoping he hadn't made as much noise as he thought.

Creeping back over to the corner of the building, Harry could hear the other two Death Eaters still struggling with the door. Ten seconds later, they were both unconscious and bound, lying in the cold snow.

Harry had to assume that their target was Aberforth, but he had no idea why. Aberforth wasn't nearly as powerful as his brother had been, and Harry wasn't even sure if the old barman was still working for the Order. It was something he would have to ask McGonagall sometime, as Aberforth didn't seem to be accepting visitors. It wouldn't surprise Harry if he just packed up and left, knowing that Voldemort was after him.

Harry was roused from his thoughts by a bright flash of light coming from around the corner. The exact place where he was attacked, and the third Death Eater still lied. He crept over to the side of the building, listening intently but not hearing anything. Raising his wand in front of him, he slowly crept along the wall until he got to the edge. He readied himself and threw his body around the corner, wand aimed right in front of him…

And came face to face with the last person in the world he expected to see: Draco Malfoy.

Harry froze, completely stunned. The shock he felt was transposed onto Malfoy's face as well. He tried to say something, but his mind completely blanked. All he could think about was his last memory of Malfoy.

That stirred something inside of Harry and he clenched his fist before swinging it hard into Malfoy's jaw. Harry felt a stinging when his hand connected and the other boy staggered backwards a few steps, wincing. He shook his hand while Malfoy clutched his jaw.

"Ow! For fuck's sake, what was that for!?" he demanded through his hands.

"That was for your little Potions experiment last year," Harry said bitterly. "And you're lucky that's all I'm going to do."

Malfoy straightened back up, still rubbing his jaw, and said, "Damn it, Potter. You will pay for that one." He paused before saying, "But not right now, I have things to take care of." He tried to walk by but Harry stopped him. "Let go of me, Potter. Why don't you go back to the castle where it's safe," he said mockingly. He pushed roughly past Harry and strode over to the other Death Eaters.

He kneeled down next to them and removed their masks, a look of satisfaction gracing his pale face. "I've been looking for these two for a long time," he muttered.

Harry looked back to the one Death Eater in the alley and noticed he was lying at a much more awkward angle than he had been when Harry put him down. "What did you do to this one?" Harry asked. Malfoy's answer wasn't what he had expected.

"_Avada Kedavra!_"

Harry's heart froze when he heard those words and he turned to see Malfoy standing over one of the men, a flash of green fading from body on the ground. He didn't even have time to react before Malfoy cast the Killing Curse a second time, on the other Death Eater.

Harry stood there in utter disbelief. He always knew Draco was a bully, but Harry figured it stopped at that. He knew his old rival wasn't a Death Eater, and he couldn't kill Dumbledore when the Headmaster's death was right around the corner. He couldn't believe it was the same person that just murdered at least two (probably three) unarmed men.

Malfoy didn't seem to have any remorse over it though. He slipped his wand back into his robes and made to head back down the alley from where he came. As Malfoy passed him, Harry finally snapped out of it. He grabbed the other boy by the front of the robes and slammed him into the side of the building.

"What do you think you're doing!?" Harry snarled, holding on as Malfoy struggled to get free.

"Fuck off, Potter," Malfoy shot back. "It's none of you business."

"It's none of my business that you just killed two men that were Stunned, bound, and wandless?"

"It's no more than they deserved," spat Malfoy. "Now get your hands off me."

Under the light from the lantern hanging nearby, Harry could see Malfoy's face clearly. His once proud and arrogant features were now gaunt, and even paler. Thin lines had formed from apparent stress and his eyes were sunken and bloodshot. It reminded Harry of how different Sirius had looked after escaping from Azkaban.

After the initial shock of Malfoy's appearance wore off, Harry said firmly, "Everyone's worthy of a second chance."

Malfoy grinned maliciously and replied, "I expected you'd think that. I _know_ they don't deserve anything but what I gave them. If you knew some of the things they've done, you would think so too."

Harry forced him into the wall again and said, "Don't try to justify your murder with me, because I'm not going to agree. So when the Ministry catches you and sentences you to death right there, you'll just say, 'Well, I've earned it'?"

Malfoy merely chuckled at him. "I don't have time for this," he said, right before bringing his knee up into Harry's stomach. It completely winded Harry, who let go of Malfoy and fell to the ground, doubled over.

"Your old mentor has rubbed off on you too much," he heard Malfoy say from right above him. "Some people don't deserve another chance. If you want to survive to see the next day, you need to understand one thing: the only absolute way to make sure your enemies won't hurt you anymore is to kill them. You're an adult now, surely you should understand that."

Harry was still grimacing in pain, but managed to get out, "Sorry, but I'm not that paranoid yet, thanks," before gasping again.

"Suit yourself," Malfoy said with another chuckle. "But don't convince yourself that you can see good in me and ask me to join you. I don't want or need your help, and I'd better not run into you again." With that, Malfoy disappeared into the night, leaving Harry with a lot to think about.

It would seem that he was after the same thing Harry was, but Harry wasn't sure he even wanted Malfoy's help, after seeing the way the Slytherin handled things. He shakily got up to his feet and looked around at the three dead bodies. Deciding this was probably not the best of places to be found if the Ministry showed up, he headed down the street to find his Firebolt.

.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.

A/N- Review if you wish.


	17. A Journey Into Darkness

**Chapter 17**

**A Journey Into Darkness**

Many, many frustrating days had passed since Harry, Ron, and Hermione's success down in the Chamber of Secrets. The memory of that day had seemed so long ago to Harry, and he longed to feel that kind of success again. The past weeks had felt like such a waste.

He had spent almost every waking moment outside of classes looking for the next Horcrux, spurred on by the thought that it would be the last. But that enthusiasm was beginning to wane. The three of them had run through just about every idea or thought on the matter. And still, all they had was one fact, which may or may not be a fact at all: they were looking for something of Ravenclaw's that Voldemort had hidden somewhere.

They had looked and looked, but still didn't have anything. Through all the books ever written on Ravenclaw, there was nothing about treasured relics that had mysteriously disappeared. They even studied a great number of books, acquired with much difficulty, on Horcruxes themselves, but those weren't much use either. Harry now knew exactly how a Horcrux was made, and the specific workings of one and its ability to preserve a soul. Unfortunately, that was of no use to them, and they found nothing about locating a specific person's Horcrux, or using a previous one to match the magical signature of another. Nothing that was even remotely helpful.

After that, Hermione had gotten the idea to talk to Dumbledore's portrait, but the manifestation of their old headmaster hadn't much on the subject. There were just a few ideas and two names of other wizards Voldemort once had contact with that may have known something. It was such a flimsy chance, but the trio immediately jumped on it, desperate for something that they were willing to cling to the smallest hopes.

Unlucky for them, the two leads turned out to be useless. Harry had convinced them to give up the memories of Voldemort, but they weren't relevant at all.

The only positive occurrence was locating Rowena Ravenclaw's old castle. Though, to call it a castle would be a bit of an overstatement. It wasn't much more than a large manor house. It bore the same medieval architecture as Hogwarts, though on a much smaller scale. Hermione had come across the location purely by accident, but no one seemed to mind.

The building was hidden deep in a valley, not too far from Hogwarts. They three of them had approached it with caution, but soon found out that the ancient magic it once possessed had faded almost completely. It appeared, from outside, as if no one had touched it for several centuries.

Inside, they found that it was nothing more than another waste of time. Harry had scoured the entire house, not knowing what he was looking for, but wanting to find something useful. He only ended up disappointing himself even more. The only thing they had returned to Hogwarts with was several dozen old books Hermione had found. It ended up being about several times more than she could carry, and Harry had a feeling she would find that they weren't worth the effort.

And now, she was reading one of those very books, seemingly enthralled by it. The three of them were sitting in Harry's room, just having returned from their morning class. They didn't have any more classes for the day, so they had decided to get caught up on their schoolwork. At least, that was what they intended; no one was doing anything of the sort.

Ron was sitting in one corner, brow furrowed, looking over his chessboard. Hermione had found a way to charm it so that the opposite colour could move on its own and Ron would be able to play by himself. Harry was quite grateful, as he was getting tired of losing to Ron nearly every day.

Hermione was in the chair across from Harry, reading her book fervently. From the commentary she was giving, which Harry was only half-listening to, it was a book on the very beginnings of Magic and how the very first 'wizards' had learned of its power. Harry found it hard to believe that such a book existed, but reconsidered when he got a good look at it. The ancient tome looked as though it could easily be several thousand years old.

As for Harry, apart from trying to pay attention to Hermione just enough so that she wouldn't get mad at him, he was gazing out his window, down at the grounds below. By now, the snow had melted and the leaves had returned to the trees. The lawn was green and healthy-looking and the sky was clear blue. It made him long for the days when he could spend the time lying out in the grass or swooping in and out of clouds on his broomstick.

However, the view of everything flourishing down on the grounds also reminded him of how long ago the last Horcrux was. And how much time it felt like they had wasted.

In truth, it only _seemed_ like they hadn't done a thing, since they hadn't any results. But they _had_ been working almost nonstop. Harry had to continually remind himself that they were making progress, even though it didn't seem like it. And that Dumbledore only found one of the Horcruxes in all the time he had spent looking for them and creating a timeline of Voldemort's life outside Hogwarts. When he _did_ stop to put things in perspective, the fact that he had found three in around seven months was actually encouraging.

By now, Harry was ignoring Hermione completely, the drone of her constant stream of remarks had softened to a low buzz in Harry's mind. He continued staring out his window, watching the treetops lean lazily in the breeze as he wracked his brain for some missing piece of information he may have overlooked. It seemed to him like there was something so obvious, something that he should have seen by now. Hidden right in front of him.

The trees continued to sway, back and forth, almost tauntingly. In his mind, Harry could hear the sing-song mocking that would accompany them. And as he watched the trees, he thought of something. Something so ridiculous and far-fetched that he could feel his mind immediately push it away. But Harry didn't let it. He tugged at the thought before it could disappear, and allowed it to grow into an idea. And as Harry thought about it more and more, and looked at it from different angles, it didn't seem ridiculous at all. It seemed plausible.

"I've just thought of something," Harry eventually spoke up, cutting off Hermione in the middle of a sentence.

Hermione looked surprised that Harry had said something, but then eagerly asked, "About which part? The Sumerians? Or was it the Egyptians?"

Harry frowned for a moment, before he realised the she thought he was talking about the book she was reading. "No, not that. Something—" he began, but stopped himself before he could say 'important', not wanting to hurt Hermione's feelings. "Something else. About where the last Horcrux could be."

A look of surprise and eagerness slowly crept over Hermione's face, and she quickly snapped her book shut and leaned forward in her seat. Her reaction really was a testament to how desperate they were. They were at the point where any idea was worth grasping at. Across the room, Ron looked up from the chessboard and turned towards Harry.

"So?" Hermione asked after Harry remained silent.

He turned back to the window and said simply, "There." He knew they wouldn't believe him, but it was starting to seem better and better.

"Where?" Hermione asked again, looking out the window as well. "The Whomping Willow? But it wasn't even around when Voldemort was here."

"No, not that," Harry told her. "I meant the Forest."

Not far from what Harry had expected, Hermione did a double-take when he said that. However, it was Ron that spoke up this time. "You're not serious, mate. Are you?" he asked with a look of slight disbelief.

"I am," Harry said, still looking out the window and turning the idea over in his head.

"Well," Hermione said calmly, "maybe you should explain."

Harry nodded and began, "It just came to me, but the more I think about it, the more it feels… _right_, I guess. I mean, it's near Hogwarts, and it's got loads of protection." They both looked at Harry unconvinced. "Besides," he went on, "no one in their right mind would willingly go in there."

"Which, I guess, is why _you_ want to," Ron said, only half-joking. Harry grinned at him.

Hermione, on the other hand, remained level-headed. "Do you really think it's worth it to brave the Forbidden Forest on a whim?" she asked, apparently hoping to talk Harry out of it by rationalising.

"If you've got a better idea, let's hear it," Harry said, but not in a harsh tone. "Look, all we have is 'whims' right now, and I think this one may actually be worth it." He had considered it enough, and his mind was made up. "I'm going, whether you come along or not."

"But Harry," Ron spoke up timidly, "aren't there… you know… _werewolves_ in the there? I mean, among other things." Harry knew he was thinking back to their nighttime foray into the forest during their second year.

"You sound like Malfoy," he said with another grin, remembering how scared the other boy had been during their detention with Hagrid. Before he could say anything else, Hermione cut in.

"Yes, don't be silly Ronald," she said sternly. "Even if there were, they'd only be a problem during the full moon. Otherwise they would just be people wandering around." Ron snorted in annoyance at her, but Hermione went on, "But he does have a point. With the centaurs turning on us and Aragog dying, and Fluffy is still in there somewhere. And who knows what else." She seemed just as frightened at the idea as Ron, but managed to hide it better.

"All the more reason why I could use your help," Harry told them.

They still weren't convinced. "I don't know Harry," Hermione said, trying to reason with him again. "We already found one in the Chamber of Secrets. Do you really think Voldemort could have snuck onto the grounds _twice_ without Dumbledore knowing? I know he's powerful, but hardly anything went on here without Dumbledore knowing. For him to do it just once is remarkable."

"And I assume he knew all about Malfoy's plan to kill him last year?" Harry replied. Hermione looked surprised, and hung her head, mumbling, "Well, no, I didn't mean…"

Harry spoke over her, "He wasn't as infallible as everyone thought. He did make mistakes." He knew the truth to that all to well. "Besides," he continued, turning the topic away from their late Headmaster, "the Forest isn't entirely on Hogwarts grounds."

He pointed out the window at the view they both had. "See, it backs up to the mountains there," he told her, gesturing to where the earth rose up from behind the trees. The village of Hogsmeade could be seen just to the left, also nestled against the mountains. "But over there," he pointed more to the right, where the forest continued on, past the horizon, "there's no telling how far back it goes."

Ron got out of his seat and walked over to the window to see what Harry meant. "So," he said slowly after a moment, "we're basically looking for one small object in what could be an infinite amount of space?"

"Pretty much, yeah," Harry told him. "So does that mean you're coming along?"

Ron sighed. "I have to, don't I? It doesn't really sound like something you can do on your own." Ron grinned at him, and Harry returned it.

They both looked over at Hermione, who merely said, "What are we waiting for?"

.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.

The trip down to the Forest was a long and arduous one. Hermione had convinced Ron and Harry that it would be best if no one saw them entering a place that was forbidden, so they were forced to travel slowly through the castle huddled under Harry's Invisibility Cloak. It had been uncomfortable when they had done it a few years ago, but now it was nearly impossible. The three of them were considerably taller than they had been, and the cloak only just covered them standing still.

Though, for safety's sake, Hermione felt it would be best if no one saw them leave at all, which meant starting at Harry's room and creeping all the way down the castle. The halls were still full of students bustling about, meaning they had to move almost exclusively through the castle's secret passageways. After six years, and countless hours studying the Marauder's Map, Harry knew most of the hidden routes to take, but even that didn't keep them from needing to travel down a few of the crowded hallways. Fortunately, Hermione had thought to try casting a few Distraction Charms on them, keeping the other students from looking in their direction for too long, or getting too close to them.

After an agonisingly long journey, they finally made it deep enough into the forest to take the Cloak off. Again being overly cautious, Hermione made them remain hidden until they got out of sight of anyone that may have been on the grounds. Now that they were ready, their even-longer quest could begin.

Harry folded up the Cloak and placed it with the other things he had brought. Just to be safe, Harry had shrunk down his multi-compartment trunk and brought it along, filled with other supplies they might need. Although there were protective Charms placed on broomsticks to keep them from being shrunk or enlarged, Harry's Firebolt and Ron's broom fit nicely in one of the compartments. "In case we need to leave in a hurry," Ron had said. Along with that, they had brought quite a bit of food, not knowing how long they would be gone.

"You're sure about this Harry?" Ron asked him after he slipped his trunk back into his pocket. Ron was skeptical about continuing forward in plain sight, but Harry would rather sacrifice visibility for mobility.

"Just keep your eyes open," was Harry's response. He drew his wand before setting off deeper into the forest, the other two following close behind.

Harry, of course, made sure to follow his own advice, constantly looking around for any kind of threat. He knew how much danger they were in, and, as he had brought Ron and Hermione along, he wasn't going to let anything happen.

On top of that, he also focused his mind so that he could detect any traces of magic present. If Voldemort had been into the Forest, he surely would have hidden a Horcrux magically. Not only that, but since the Forest was full of all manner of dangerous creatures, very few witches and wizards ventured very deep into it, meaning they shouldn't find any magic left behind.

The three of them quickly found one of the paths Hagrid had made and began following it. They moved single-file at a fairly slow pace, careful to not make much noise. Ron, however, wasn't the most stealthy person, especially when he was nervous. After Harry heard a _third_ loud crack behind him, he was tempted to say something, but Hermione beat him to it.

"Honestly Ron," she whispered furiously behind her, "you'll wake up the whole forest. Watch where you're walking!" Harry couldn't make out the muttered insult Ron fired back, so he ignored them and continued on.

The path they were on stayed fairly even and flat, and the trees around them were still rather sparse. Though Harry was noticing the shrubs receding and the trees becoming thicker. They kept moving forward slowly for twenty minutes before anything happened.

Harry heard the faintest of noises in the distance, but being as alert as he was, couldn't disregard it. He stopped, just in time to see a blur whiz past his eyes and a loud _thock_ sound right next to his head.

Harry immediately jumped backwards, knocking into Hermione. He heard her fall to the ground, but ignored it, instead focusing on the arrow embedded in the tree next to him, mere inches from where his head was moments ago. He quickly turned to his right to see two centaurs advancing on them, one fitting another arrow into his bow.

Instinctively, Harry stepped forward, putting himself between his friends and the incoming threat. Beside him, Ron was in the process of helping Hermione to back to her feet when he looked over to see the problem. Upon seeing the two centaurs, he let go of Hermione and quickly stood up, hand reaching for his wand.

The two centaurs came to a halt several yards away. The one with the bow (and a coat of charcoal grey) leveled his weapon at Harry's chest and growled, "Who are you to trespass on these lands? What business do you have here?"

Harry could feel Ron draw his wand beside him, and he quickly threw his arm out, keeping his friend from brandishing it and making the situation worse. "Don't do anything stupid," he hissed, before turning back around.

"Speak!" the first centaur shouted. "With haste, and maybe I shall spare one of you."

Harry heard Hermione gasp softly behind him. "We're looking for something," Harry told the centaur, doing his best to keep his voice steady. "And we think it's here in the forest. We mean you no harm."

"No harm?" the centaur asked, grinning maliciously. "You make me laugh. What makes you any different than all the other humans?"

For the first time, the second centaur spoke. "They are merely children, Fador. Can you not see they speak the truth? Or has your mind become so clouded like so many of our clan."

"My mind is clear as ever, friend," the first centaur shot back. "And if they do mean what they say? What reason could they possibly have searching for something of theirs in our forest?"

"It's not ours," Harry interrupted them. "We think someone brought and object in here and hid it. A long time ago."

The second centaur spoke before the first could. "Quite possible," he said calmly. "We used to be peaceful, before recent times. We cared not who walked these lands. And this forest is far too vast to rest completely under our gaze. What you seek may very well be out there."

"Surely you are not suggesting we let them go?" the first centaur demanded. "They have been caught trespassing, and must be punished."

"Fador, brother, you're letting your anger cloud your vision. Already I can tell what these young ones are after." the golden centaur asked. He then turned to Harry. "A way to banish the Dark Lord, I believe?"

Harry nodded. He began to relax slightly, noticing that the first centaur, Fador, had lowered his bow.

"The Dark Lord! You're going soft, friend. The Dark Lord is but another human, far below our concerns."

"You're wrong," Harry said firmly. "Voldemort does concern you. Do you think he'll just ignore you once all his enemies are dead? Do you think he'll spare you just because you claim to be neutral?"

"Harry… stop it," Hermione whispered frantically behind him. And for good reason, as Fador had raised his bow again and drawn back the arrow.

"You dare to threaten me, child? The problems of you humans mean nothing to us!" he shouted.

Harry tightened his grip on his wand, ready to bring it from his side at a moment's notice. Fortunately for him, that wasn't necessary. The second centaur sighed deeply and said, "Fador… you are young and brash. You cannot even see this boy speaks the truth. The Dark Lord won't ignore us for long. He will ask us to serve him… and when we say 'no', he will treat us like the rest of his enemies. Have you not yet seen the significance of this boy?" Harry felt himself under the piercing gaze of the charcoal centaur, but didn't flinch. "He is the one who will challenge the Dark Lord."

"But not even you can see who will win," Fador spoke, sounding almost disrespectful.

His friend merely shook his head. "No… no, I cannot. But you realise we must not impede these three any further."

Harry breathed a sigh of relief, and Fador reluctantly lowered his bow. "You know Magorian will have your head for this," he said, snorting loudly, not unlike a horse would. The next moment, he turned and trotted off in the direction he came from.

The golden centaur turned back to Harry. "Magorian will do as he sees fit. But you three shall continue on. I must warn you, though, not to stray further south from this path. I do not believe the others will understand your quest."

Harry nodded. "Thank you."

The centaur bowed his head slightly, and said, "I do hope you find what you seek." He then turned and headed after his friend, leaving Harry, Ron, and Hermione alone.

The three of them remained silent for several moments, all pondering how lucky they had just been. Eventually, it was Ron who spoke.

"Well… that was close, wasn't it?"

"I'll say," Harry agreed.

Behind him, Hermione snorted angrily. "Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to antagonise the one with the arrow aimed right at you."

"Well, I _was_ right," Harry said, bending down to pick up his fallen bag. He then turned to Hermione and said, "You're just mad because the arrow would have gone right through my head and hit you. Shall we?" He began walking down their original path.

"At least you're not dwelling on the fact that we almost died," Hermione muttered before setting off after him.

Ron, having heard her, walked alongside Hermione and pointed out, "Well, we almost die quite a bit, don't we?"

.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.

The trio's trek through the forest proved to be less eventful than expected. In fact, it was starting to border on 'boring'. Harry couldn't decide if that was good or bad.

They made sure not to venture back into the Centaur's territory, while also making sure to stay as far from Aragog's old home as possible. Once clear of that though, the forest actually seemed rather tame.

It had been several hours since their encounter with the pair of Centaurs, and Ron and Hermione were starting to grow tired. Harry continued to push them on unrelentingly, determined not to give up until they found something, or ran out of daylight.

It wasn't much of a help that they were basically looking for a needle in a haystack. The idea that the three of them could find one trace of magic and such a massive forest was almost ridiculous. But, no matter how many times Ron brought up that very point, Harry kept going. He had so few ideas that any one seeming remotely plausible wasn't going to be abandoned until Harry was absolutely sure.

The part of the forest they were currently hiking through was so thick that Harry couldn't see but ten feet in front of him. And that was with his wand lit, as not a single ray of sunlight was filtering down through the canopy.

"Come on Harry," Ron groaned. "It's been like this for twenty minutes. We're never going to find anything in trees this dense."

Hermione chimed in, "I think he's right, Harry. We should go back and try to find a different path around this. I can't even concentrate with all these branches and thorns."

Harry pulling a rather large thorn from his leg when she said this. He was about to agree with them, when he looked up and saw a faint patch of light ahead of him. "Wait, I can see light up there," he told them. "Just a little bit further and we'll be out of this."

Sure enough, ten minutes later they were walking through a patch of very sparse trees toward a large clearing. It was the first time they had seen grass since entering the forest, and it was a very welcome change.

When they reached it, Harry looked around to try to get his bearings. He could see the light from the sun coming from his left and the tall mountains were right in front of him. The clearing itself wasn't much larger than a Quidditch pitch, and probably hard to notice even from directly overhead. It was surrounded by tall trees all around it, but it was large enough to get a good amount of light, and the grass was very green and very soft. No matter the situation, it was a very welcome change from the confining forest.

"I think we should rest for a bit here," Harry told them, much to his friends' relief.

The immediately dropped their bags and sat down. Harry put his bag down as well, but continued looking at the landscape around him. Behind him, Ron lied down and stretched out in the grass, sighing heavily. Hermione opened up her bag and pulled out a jug of water, taking a deep drink before passing it to Ron.

Harry, however, continued walking around the clearing, trying to decide which direction to search in next. He saw two paths on the right side of their resting place. One looked like it may lead up into the mountains, which Harry wasn't keen on doing. The other one looked to lead down to the Centaur's part of the forest, which was even worse. He started walking to the edge to try to get a better idea of how they should go.

He didn't take more than a few steps when he heard the ground crunch under his foot. Harry stopped immediately, afraid he had stepped on some creature. Lifting his foot up, he checked the sole of his shoe, but there was nothing on it. Frowning, Harry looked down and saw what had caused the odd noise.

He had stepped on a small patch of dead grass, no more than a foot in diameter. Harry shrugged his shoulders and started to walk away, but something was holding him back. It looked so odd to see, in a field of beautiful, healthy green grass. But there it was, in the middle of this field, a tiny area of withering, brown.

After several minutes, Harry heard footsteps approaching, and looked up to see Hermione walking toward him.

"Did you find something?" she asked, clearly puzzled at his behaviour.

Harry shook his head, looking back down. "I don't know what it is. I guess it's nothing… just looks so out of place."

"I certainly does," Hermione agreed. "I wonder why it's just this spot." She continued looking, losing herself in thought for a minute before snapping her head back up. She looked at Harry with wide eyes and asked, "You don't think…"

"What?" Harry asked, but suddenly realised what she was thinking. His eyes widened as well and he said, "No way… it can't be…"

Hermione started to look excited and said, "But Harry, it _might_ be… shouldn't we at least check?"

Harry looked back and forth between the ground and Hermione several times. The more he thought about it, the more it seemed like a possibility. But he forced himself not to get his hopes up. "Ok, we can check," he said, conjuring a shovel in his hand.

Their conversation had brought Ron over and he and Hermione stood and watched as Harry began to dig in the patch of dead grass. He cut through the roots immediately, leaving nothing to dig through except very soft, very loose earth.

Harry dug for ten minutes, forming a rather deep hole, but finding nothing. He was about ready to give up, but the next plunge into the dirt was stopped abruptly, accompanied by a loud _thunk_. Harry looked up, shock evident on his face, but Hermione was bouncing up and down with excitement.

She quickly pulled the shovel away from Harry and out of the hole before reaching down to feel for the obstruction. The three of them knew, from the sound of the shovel hitting it, that their object wasn't just a rock or tree root. But Harry continued making sure he didn't raise his hopes until he saw what they found.

Wearing a large, beaming grin, Hermione returned from the hole holding a small wooden box. It was about the size of a Quaffle, but a perfect cube. The finish had long since worn off, but Harry could see a small metal latch intact on the front. Somehow, he knew he had found something worthwhile. And he could think of at least one thing so Dark it could have kept the grass from growing, even buried so deep in the ground.

Hermione slowly handed the box to Harry with a very anxious look on her face. Harry took it and was about to open it when she stopped him. "Harry, wait," she said. "It could be charmed."

Harry had thought the same at first, but quickly realised it was safe. He shook his head, saying, "It's not. There's no magic at all."

Hermione was about to open her mouth and warn him again, but it snapped shut and her eyes widened, as if something had just dawned on her. Harry ignored her and pressed his finger to the cool metal of the latch. He slowly flicked it up.

Taking a deep breath, Harry held the lid with his thumb and pushed it open. There was a soft creak, but nothing happened. Harry looked down into the box, and at last allowed himself a small smile. Sitting there, resting on the green velvet lining, was what they were searching for. Hermione and Ron could tell from Harry's expression that they were done looking.

Harry reached inside and pulled out a beautifully carved statuette, small enough to fit in easily in the palm of his hand. It was a fearsome looking eagle, in flight, its beak slightly open and its talons stretched out in front of it. The bird was solid bronze, highly polished and shining brightly in the sun. Set in its eyes were two tiny sapphires.

"So that's it, is it?" Ron asked after a few minutes.

Harry could sense the sickening cold coming from it, just like the rest of Voldemort's Horcruxes, and he merely nodded. The eagle was quite magnificent, too much so to be tarnished with such a great evil. He hoped he would be able to keep it intact after removing the soul fragment. "You figure it's Ravenclaw's then?" Harry asked jokingly.

"Kind of an odd way to hide it, if you ask me," Ron said.

"Not odd, brilliant," Hermione chimed in. Ron and Harry looked at her, questioning her meaning and her apparent praise of Voldemort. "Well, think about it," she went on. "Anyone desperate enough to come into the Forest looking for something so small in something so vast is definitely going to be looking for any traces of magic. All the other Horcruxes were hidden and secured magically, because of their importance, so it makes since that this one should be as well. Voldemort knew that, and hid it with absolutely no magic. I can't believe how fortunate we were to find it."

"Well, a bit of luck is always welcome, the way things normally go with us," Harry said dryly. He put the statuette back in the box and latched it, and then placed it in his bag. He then picked up his bag and said, "I reckon it's about time we head back." Neither of his friends disagreed. "And I suggest we fly."

.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.

It wasn't until about five minutes until eight that Harry started to grow impatient and anxious. He was sitting in the Room of Requirement, along with most of the D.A., waiting for Hermione and Ron to show up. He was impatient because he wanted to start the meeting soon, but anxious because he was afraid Hermione had found what she was looking for.

The past several meetings, Harry had tried to teach the group how to cast the Patronus Charm. It had actually gone better than Harry had expected. A good portion of the sixth and seventh years had managed some positive results, and about ten of them formed corporeal Patronuses.

Since things were going so well, Harry had wondered about trying casting the charm in the presence of a Dementor. It was how Harry had first learned, and it was certainly very different, and more difficult. Even if no one managed to do it, it would be a helpful experience for everyone, to get a feel for the conditions and understand how much harder it would be. Harry hoped that would make them work harder.

The only problem was simulating a Dementor's effects. Even if the had Ministry still controlled them, it wasn't as if you could go out to Azkaban and rent one for the day. Harry had given up hope on trying such a lesson when Hermione told him there might be a way. But before asking her how, the bushy-haired girl jumped out of her seat and out the door.

Harry had no idea what she had been looking for all evening, but he was starting to grow apprehensive.

It wasn't until a few seconds before eight that Hermione showed up. She and Ron entered the room carrying a large trunk between them. Hermione gave Harry a quick thumbs-up, indicating she had found what she was looking for. Whatever that was.

The pair carried the trunk over to the side of the room and then headed up to the front to speak with Harry.

"So we found one," Hermione told him. "And just in time, too."

"And what exactly did you find?" Harry asked cautiously.

Hermione grinned proudly and said, "The perfect way to practice with a Dementor, without the dangers of someone being kissed: a Boggart."

"That's… brilliant. I had completely forgotten about that," Harry said, amazed at the simplicity of it. It was the exact same way Harry had learned the Patronus Charm, and it gave them a way to have the effects of a Dementor, but in a completely controlled environment.

"But wait," Harry said, as something else occurred to him. "What if it doesn't work?"

Hermione frowned. "How could it not work?"

"Well," Harry explained, "what if my greatest fear isn't a Dementor anymore? I mean, those things can change, right? Ever since I learned the Patronus, Dementors don't really scare me as much anymore."

"Oh, that," Hermione said, looking relieved. She had apparently thought of this already and found a way around it. "That's not a problem. You can make it be anything." Harry looked at her blankly, so she went on, "Well, don't you know how a Boggart knows your greatest fear?"

"Er… Magic?"

"Not quite, Harry," she said, shaking her head at him, with a small smile. "They search through your thoughts to find out. But an Occlumens can shut their thoughts out to a Boggart, right?"

"So it wouldn't change into anything?" Harry asked.

"Yes, but there's more," Hermione said, "Because once you block it from reading your thoughts, you can then project something else in your mind. Something you want it to turn into, but masked as something you fear."

Harry started to understand what she meant. When he was learning Occlumency, the first part was to block your mind from being sifted through. This was good if you wanted to hide your thoughts from a Legilimens, but they could also tell they were being blocked. The second part was projecting 'fake' thoughts and memories for someone to see, so they would think what they were seeing was true.

"That sounds easy enough," Harry told her, wondering when Hermione had time to think all this through. "I guess we should get started then."

Harry turned to address the group, which was starting to grow impatient. "Sorry for the delay everyone, we were just sorting out something. So you all remember our work with the Patronus Charm, right? Well, I thought this time we would try casting in the presence of a Dementor." The room immediately began to whisper to one another and cast uncertain glances at Harry. "Don't worry," Harry went on, "We won't use an actual Dementor… just a Boggart. And while it won't be able to Kiss you, it will give the same effects as an actual Dementor. Anyone who doesn't want to be around, we can make a separate room and I'm sure we can find something else to work on. The rest of you, gather over here."

Harry got off the table he was leaning against and headed over to the trunk containing the Boggart, while Hermione asked the Room to create another room on the other end. Once everyone had sorted out, Harry continued.

"Ok, anyone who wants to try conjuring their Patronus in the presence of a Dementor, line up over here," Harry said as he stood next to the trunk. "But I should warn you, it's a whole lot different than casting normally. We've plenty of chocolate if you start to feel faint. Parvati, looks like you're first. Ready?"

Parvati was at the front of the line, and she stepped forward and nodded confidently, though Harry could tell she wasn't as assured as she looked. Harry gave her an encouraging smile, before preparing himself. He quickly blocked off his mind, and then began to project how much he feared Dementors, sure to imagine every detail. When he was ready, he reached over to the latch on the trunk and said, "Here we go."

The entire room tensed up when Harry unlatched the trunk. And rightly so, as it instantly flew open and a tattered black cloak rose out, towering above them. The room suddenly grew dark, and Harry felt that familiar chill sweep over him as the Dementor drew in its breath. Its attention was focused on Harry, but he ignored it and watched Parvati.

The arrival of the Dementor froze her momentarily, and all she could do was stare up at the horrible creature. "Parvati, concentrate," Harry whispered to her encouragingly. She looked over at him, and then back to the Dementor, her grip on her wand tightening. She then raised it and shouted, "_Expecto Patronum!_"

Harry, who wasn't expecting anything, was shocked when a silver mist emerged from the wand, creating a small barrier between her and the Dementor. It immediately turned its attention to the Patronus. It began to reach out for it, but pulled its withered hand back, instead floating there, knowing it couldn't pass. Parvati, however, began to struggle with maintaining the weak Patronus and ward of the Dementor's effects.

Harry decided it was time to stop. He banished the pseudo-Dementor back into the trunk and latched it. The room lit back up, and the warmth returned as quickly as it had left. "Parvati, that was great. Especially for a first try," Harry told her proudly.

She was hunched over, breathing heavily and shaking, but she smiled. Looking up at Harry, she asked, "Can I go again?"

Harry chuckled at her determination. "Not just yet. Go get some chocolate and sit down for a bit while someone else goes. Then you can try again."

The rest of the time went fairly well. About half of the people who attempted managed to get some form of Patronus to come out. Terry Boot was the only one to conjure a corporeal one, much to everyone's (and especially his) surprise. He tried casting three times with no result, but on the fourth, his giant silver Patronus burst forth and began chasing the Dementor around the room.

In the end, Harry was surprised by the results, but very pleased. After an hour and a half, though, everyone was rather worn out, and ready to end for the day. Harry couldn't blame them at all.

Once there was no one else who wanted another turn, they decided to stop. After that, several of the others wanted to know how Harry set everything up with the Boggart, so he explained what Hermione came up. When everyone heard this, they wanted to see Harry change the Boggart into various other creatures and objects. They all had a good time and got plenty of laughs out of some of the many shapes Harry made it assume.

Eventually, it was Seamus that asked, "So what's your real Boggart, Harry?"

Harry was slightly taken aback. He hadn't really thought about it, and tried to think of what it could possibly be. "Not sure really," he answered. "It used to be a Dementor… but now I have no idea." Now that he thought about it, he was slightly curious as to what the Boggart would turn in to. He decided to test it out.

Harry took a deep breath and closed his eyes to focus, dropping his mental barrier and relaxing his mind. After a few moments, he heard the swish of a cloak, and several people gasped.

Harry opened his eyes to see Lord Voldemort standing in front of him. There was a smirk of satisfaction on his pale face and his eyes were glowing brighter than ever. The sight sent a chill down Harry's spine, but that wasn't the worst of it. Harry looked down to see none other than himself, lying at Voldemort's feet. His body was battered and bruised, his face covered in blood, and a large pool of crimson on the floor next to him. His eyes were wide open, and his once bright green eyes were dull and lifeless.

Harry instinctively took a step back from the horrible sight. It wasn't something that made him jump, or scream in terror, but he knew instantly that he was looking at his greatest fear. And he couldn't look at it for long.

He opened his mouth several times, but nothing came out. Shaking his head sadly, Harry banished the Boggart back to its trunk.

He turned back to the group, who were all looking at him with varying looks of fear and confusion. Harry merely wanted to get out of the room as quickly as possible. "That's all for tonight," he said softly, and strode over to the door.

For five minutes after Harry had gone, no one had spoken. Everyone looked back and forth at each other, or stared off into space. No one seemed to have any words at the moment.

It was Ron that finally broke the silence. "I don't get it," he said. "He's afraid of You-Know-Who? Or afraid of being killed by him? That's nothing to be ashamed of."

Most of the group nodded in agreement. Only Hermione seemed to know exactly what was on Harry's mind.

"It's not that simple." She spoke barely more than a whisper, but everyone was so quiet that they could hear her just fine. "It's not that he's afraid of being killed by Voldemort. He's afraid of what it would mean." Everyone looked at her expectantly, and she continued, "Harry believes he is the one that has to get rid of Voldemort. And frankly, he's our best hope now. He's afraid of what would happen if he fails. What would happen to all of us."

No one said anything else. Really, no one knew what _to_ say. They could only sit there in silence, thinking about the seventeen-year-old who bore the weight of their entire world on his shoulders.

.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.

A/N – Well, this took entirely too long. I won't bother to list any excuses, but I apologize to anyone who wished I would've gotten my act together and updated. And hopefully I didn't lose too many readers. By the way, I appreciate all the reviews I've received. Though I'd like to point out to some, when you're stating your opinion, please don't forget the phrases "I think" or "In my opinion". Otherwise, people will think you're stating facts.

YNWA


	18. The Lurking Horror

**Chapter 18**

**The Lurking Horror**

"Mr. Potter?"

…

"Mr. Potter!"

Harry was nudged hard in the arm, snapping him from his thoughts. He looked to his right to see Ron staring at him and gesturing towards the front of the room. Harry snapped his head forward to see a very stern-looking McGonagall glaring at him.

"Mr. Potter, this is the third time I have been forced to pull your attention back to our lesson," she said harshly. "If you would rather daydream and complete your work during detention, that can be arranged. Otherwise, I suggest you start to act like you belong in my class."

"Sorry, Professor," Harry quickly muttered in embarrassment. He turned his head away from McGonagall's piercing gaze, as well as the looks he was getting from his classmates, and picked up his quill.

Harry had been trying to concentrate on the Transfiguration lesson, but found it impossible, as his mind continued to wander. With all that had been going on the past few days, it was understandable for his mind to be preoccupied with other things. He would have rather not been in class at all, but somehow his friends always seemed to talk him into it. Something about his presence instilling confidence in the rest of the students. Harry wasn't really paying attention.

"You okay?" he heard Hermione whisper to him from his left. He simply nodded, not looking up from his notes.

It was reasonable that Harry was so distracted lately. Just two days ago, he had found what he hoped was the final Horcrux. Which meant that they would soon be able to fight Voldemort head on. Harry hoped the Ministry and the Order could stop defending and finally attack for once.

The only problem was, the Horcrux was still intact. Despite his and Hermione's best efforts, the fragment of Voldemort's soul remained bound to the small statue. Nothing they had tried had been effective at all. Which meant that Voldemort was still protected, even from death.

It was this problem that was currently on Harry's mind, and had been ever since the night he, Ron, and Hermione returned from the Forest. No matter what Harry seemed to try, it always failed. He knew it was a Horcrux; he sensed the piece of Voldemort's soul inside every time he touched the blasted thing. But there was no Enchantment that bound it to the miniature eagle. Which meant it was unlike any of the previous Horcruxes Harry had found, or read about. And, thus, there was nothing Harry could do.

He felt himself getting worked up again. It frustrated him to no end to have his progress once again halted. He just wanted it to be over. He wanted to get rid of Voldemort, he wanted the fighting to stop, he wanted to keep more from being killed. He was beginning to feel overwhelmed with that same helplessness he felt all last year.

"That's it for today's lesson," McGonagall's words sliced through his thoughts and brought him back to the classroom yet again. "You all have your assignments from last week to be handed in the next time we meet. Dismissed." Harry began to pack up his bag when he heard his professor go on, "Mr. Potter, I'd like a word with you." Mentally sighing, he waited for the class to empty before approaching the front of the room.

McGonagall was still writing something on a sheet of parchment, so Harry waited a few moments until she looked up. "Mr. Potter," she eventually said. "I'm very pleased that you have returned to the castle. And that you're taking classes. I am sure you know, because of your situation, you are not obligated to attend classes."

Harry nodded.

"But if you are going to be present in my class, you had better come prepared to learn," she said sternly. "I cannot, and will not, force you to be here. But should you choose to, I expect, at the very least, for you to pay attention." She looked at Harry for a second before asking, "That isn't unreasonable, is it?"

"No, Professor," Harry said, not at all in the mood to be scolded. "I've just had a lot going on, that's all."

"I understand that," McGonagall told him. "Which is why it isn't necessary for you to come. I anticipate that the next time you enter this classroom, it is because you have the time to join us, and because you want to be taught."

"Yes, Professor."

"That is all, Mr. Potter," she said, and turned her attention back to her desk.

Harry slung his bag over his shoulder and exited the room. He didn't care much for being scolded like that. But on the other hand, before this year McGonagall would have told him to show up to class or face expulsion.

Then again, Harry knew he shouldn't be too surprised. These days, so many things were different than what he was used to. With the threat of Voldemort looming over everyone's heads, and the fear growing steadily each day, it made sense that the castle wouldn't function normally. Or, whatever 'normal' is for Hogwarts.

As he walked along, Harry lost himself in his thoughts again. Not for the first time in recent weeks, he found himself wondering if he should even be back in the castle at all. Going to classes was nice, but it seemed pointless when he had so many more important things to do. He had even stopped himself halfway through packing all his things the other night, with the intent of sneaking back to Grimmauld Place, away from all the distractions of the castle.

It was his friends that managed to keep him from escaping. And no matter how many times he tried to get around it, he knew they were right. He knew he needed the resources the castle had to offer him. And not just the library, but the staff, and even the ghosts. Harry hadn't realised it, but they had been around longer than even Dumbledore, and had seen and knew much more than even the wisest of living witches and wizards.

And on top of that, Hermione had managed to beat it into Harry's head that he couldn't work nonstop. That he needed to take his mind off things every once in a while.

As it so happened, Harry had a break and, instead of joining Hermione and Neville in the library to study, he was headed up to the Owlery to see Hedwig before going back to his room to read. He had seen his owl about once a week when she delivered letters to Harry, but he had yet to go up and visit her.

He wandered down the hall, not in any hurry and his pace was showing it. Harry wasn't really paying attention to where he was going, but knew the path to the West Tower well enough. He turned down the next hallway, finding it empty. Down on the grounds, he could see dozens of students lounging on the grass, comfortable in the giant shadow the castle cast. And that's when Harry stopped.

He could have sworn he just heard a whisper from behind him. Harry quickly turned, but found no one there. He turned back, frowning, and continued walking, letting himself sink back into thoughts of Voldemort.

And then another whisper. This one from even closer. Harry turned around again, letting his hand grip his wand inside his robes. But again, the hallway was empty. "Hello?" he called out, "Anyone there?" All he heard was his own words echoing back to him.

Harry shook his head thoroughly, trying to clear it out, and started walking again, more quickly than before. He knew he was just being paranoid, and needed to relax some. He figured it could have just been a portrait or ghost playing a joke on him. Or even the wind. Up so high, just one of the many windows could be open, letting in slight gusts of air.

"_Harry…_"

Harry whipped to his left, where someone had just said his name. And still, no one was there. His heart was beating faster now, and he looked up and down the hallway, only to find it remained completely empty. Harry tightened his fingers around his wand. He knew he had heard his name whispered. He wasn't imagining it. Or, he hoped he wasn't. Trying not to panic, he looked up at the nearby suit of armor. "Did you just…" he started, but the suit of armor merely turned his helmet dumbly to Harry, and gave what must have been a questioning look.

He started walking again, his quick steps audible on the stone floor. He didn't know what he was running from, he just knew that he needed to get out of this corridor as fast as possible and clear his head. He couldn't stop thinking of his second year, hearing voices coming from nowhere. In that instance, things didn't turn out very well, and Harry hoped the same thing wasn't happening again.

And as he walked, he heard more whispers, from behind him again. He looked over his shoulder, but didn't bother stopping. Instead, he walked even faster. The noises were coming more frequently now, and Harry continually checked behind him, each time finding the hall to be vacant. Along the walls, portraits were looking at him oddly, clearly puzzled at his behaviour. Harry was nearly jogging now, his heart thumping audibly and his palms beginning to sweat.

Voices were now calling to him constantly, from all around him. The jumbled whispers were impossible to make out clearly, but Harry wasn't sure he wanted to know what they were saying. He broke into a full sprint, drawing his wand and glancing over his shoulder every couple steps.

The door in front of him was getting closer and closer. He just wanted to get out of this hallway and away from whatever was doing this to him.

When he reached the door, he crashed into it, flinging it open forcefully, before dashing inside himself. He immediately spun around and slammed the door shut, casting several Locking Charms on it. Harry slowly took a few steps backwards, keeping his wand aimed at the door. The only noise he could hear now was his panting and his heart pounding. Harry tried to tell himself his heavy breathing was just from running down the corridor, and not from the fear that was gripping him.

Harry wasn't sure how long he stood there for, before he finally felt himself start to relax. He slowly lowered his wand, and let out a deep sigh.

That was when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

Harry reacted instantly, his fear flaring up so suddenly, it was as if it had never gone. He spun around, grabbing the hand and forcing his wand into the person's throat.

"Ah, Harry, what are you doing?" they said, and Harry suddenly realised who it was: Ginny Weasley. He pulled his wand away and took a step back.

"What was that for?" Ginny asked angrily, rubbing her throat.

Harry took a moment to settle himself, while the situation caught up with him. "Sorry… sorry, Ginny," he eventually said, his voice sounding weak. "You just startled me, that's all."

Ginny looked concerned. It was clear she could tell something was wrong with him. "Are you okay Harry?"

His first instinct was to say 'yes', but he knew Ginny would see right through that. So, with a sigh, he decided to answer truthfully, and said, "I don't know."

.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.

"Here, drink this."

Harry looked questioningly at Ginny, and then at the cup of tea she was offering him.

"What?" Ginny asked, not seeing what the problem was. "It's what Mum always does when something's wrong."

Harry merely nodded and accepted the cup. After running into Ginny in the stairway to the Owlery, they had walked down to Harry's room, where he tried to explain to her what had happened back in the hallway. It was rather difficult, seeing as he himself didn't even know what went on.

After taking a sip of her own tea, Ginny set her cup back in its saucer. "So, was it like hearing the basilisk?" she asked, seeming to understand at least a little.

"Not really," Harry told her. "Back then, I could hear it talking, inside the walls. But this… I don't know." Harry shook his head, trying to find the right words. "I heard voices, but I couldn't tell what they said. Except when they said my name. And they were all around me. I just…" he trailed off.

Ginny was quick to alleviate his fears. "I don't think you're losing your mind, Harry. Not yet, anyway," she added with a smirk. "People hear voices sometimes, even in the Muggle world. I'm sure there's an explanation." She sat back in her chair and said, "I know you've got a lot on your mind right now. Maybe you're just too stressed."

Harry thought about that for a second, but didn't agree. "I don't think so. I mean, I don't feel that stressed. The only thing that's wearing on me is not being able to figure out this Horcrux." Harry paused. "It just frustrating… this was the last one, and then we could finally start doing something about Voldemort."

It seemed Ginny could hear the anger in Harry's voice, and waited a moment before she spoke up. "We'll figure it out soon. Just try to be patient. And allow yourself to take some time off every once in a while."

"Yeah, that's what Ron and Hermione have been telling me."

"Well," Ginny said, "what do you have to do right now?" When Harry informed her he didn't have any more classes for the day, she went on, "Then come down to the Room of Requirement with me. You can teach me that new spell you mentioned last DA meeting."

.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.

The next day, Harry found himself sitting in the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, trying very hard to stay awake.

Harry Potter wasn't at all unused to nightmares. Having seen and been through some of the things he had, that was not surprising. But last night, his nightmares must have been the worst of his life. It seemed as though they would start up as soon as he closed his eyes. It was like relieving the horrors of his life in perfect detail, with no control over his actions. He wasn't sure exactly how much peaceful sleep he had gotten, but he figured he could probably count the minutes on his fingers.

"Mate, maybe you should go back to your room and sleep," Ron said from his left.

Further down, Hermione leaned over and whispered, "Don't even think about it Harry. You can't afford to miss any classes."

"He's already missed half the year, it's not like one more day will hurt," Ron shot back, but Hermione elbowed him hard in the side. "All right, all right," Ron said, rubbing is ribs, "but at least go see Pomfrey after class. Maybe she can give you something."

Harry nodded at this. He would definitely do that… a Dreamless Sleep Potion sounded about the best thing in the world right now.

Pretty soon, Professor Lancaster entered the room and began his lesson. Harry didn't hear much of it, through his struggles to stay awake, and didn't write a single line of notes. He was fortunate Lancaster didn't call on him to answer any questions. Since Harry arrived, the professor had taken a shine to him, and seemed to ask for his participation more often than anyone else.

When class finally ended, Harry staggered out of the room with his friends. He began heading up to the Hospital Wing, telling Ron, Hermione, and Neville that he would be fine on his own. They reluctantly agreed and made their way down to the Great Hall for lunch.

Harry continued on his path up to see Madam Pomfrey, plodding along slowly, trying not to collapse right there from exhaustion. It wasn't till halfway along that he realised he was completely alone in one of the corridors. After yesterday's events, Harry had tried to be around people as often as he could. He figured he wouldn't start losing his mind again if he was near his friends.

Now that he was along, he felt a chill of fear run up his spine. He didn't know what was going on inside his head, but he didn't fancy finding what exactly it was capable of. Harry hoisted his bag higher on his shoulder and started walking faster.

Soon enough, his fears were realised. Harry felt himself go cold, and the hairs on the back of his neck stood straight up. _Not again_, he mentally pleaded, but to no avail.

And then, he felt that he was no longer alone. He could sense a presence nearby. Harry quickly spun around, drawing his wand in the process. What he saw nearly made him jump out of his skin.

Standing in the shadows of a tapestry was another figure. Despite being hidden partially, Harry recognised the person immediately. It was someone he had seen many nights in his dreams: Cedric Diggory.

Harry had no idea what to think. He knew Cedric had died three years ago. But here he was, standing in front of him, looking just like he had that night. He was dirty and his hair was ruffled, and his robes were torn in several places from the maze… exactly as Harry had remembered. Though this Cedric was shockingly pale.

"Not again?" the figure said. He sounded just like Cedric, though his mouth didn't move an inch when he spoke. "Why not?"

Harry didn't know how to react. He raised his wand and took a step back. "W-what are you?" he asked feebly.

"Don't you remember me, Harry?" Cedric asked stepping out of the shadows and towards him. "How could you forget so easily? After what you did."

"Stay away from me," Harry said, louder. He continued slowly edging away from the ghost, or echo, or whatever it was. Cedric merely took another step closer. "You're not real," Harry nearly shouted.

"How could you say such things?" Cedric asked in a hurt tone. But before Harry could respond, he vanished. Harry stared at the spot where Cedric had been, but before he could react, the apparition reappeared right beside him. Harry jumped again and took several steps away, bringing his wand around. "As if it wasn't bad enough. You killed me."

"I didn't!" This time, Harry did shout.

"You should have known, Harry," Cedric said, again walking towards him. "If you hadn't been so foolish, I'd still be alive."

"I didn't kill you!" Harry yelled again. "Get away!"

"You led me to my death," the figure said, still advancing on him. "I can see what you're thinking. Defeating Voldemort won't do anything for you. You think it'll bring me back? Or anyone he's killed? It's useless Harry. Just give up."

"I won't," Harry said angrily. "I won't!" he repeated, and threw a spell at the specter. It passed right through Cedric's chest and dissipated on the wall behind him. Harry didn't care though, and he turned and started running down the hall.

Harry hadn't made it very far before Cedric appeared right beside him. He seemed to be gliding along as Harry ran. "You can't run from me Harry," he whispered. Cedric disappeared, and then appeared on Harry's other side. "Don't even try, Harry. I'm already inside your head."

That was when something clicked with Harry. Through all his fear and confusion, something made sense to him. He slowed to a stop and closed his eyes. Before Cedric could say anything else, Harry forced himself to regain his composure, clear his mind, and shield his thoughts. After a few minutes, Harry's breathing returned to normal and he felt himself relax and his fears subside.

Harry opened his eyes to find himself alone once again. He allowed himself a sigh of relief, before continuing up to the Hospital Wing

.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.

"Wait… say that again."

"Say what again, Ron. I said a lot of things just now."

"No, I meant…" Ron started, but trailed off. "You think the Horcrux is doing this to you."

"That's the gist of what I said, yeah," Harry answered. He had just spent the past several minutes trying to explain to Ron, Hermione, and Ginny what he suspected was going on.

"But… surely you haven't been carrying it around, Harry," Hermione asked apprehensively.

"Well, yeah, of course I have," answered Harry, not seeing what was wrong with that. "It's been on my bag since we've found it. I couldn't just leave it lying around here."

Hermione opened her mouth quickly, like she was about to scold him, but decided against it. "Harry," she said after pausing a moment, "you might be right then. The Horcrux could be affecting you like this. I don't think you should keep it near you until we figure it out."

Harry snorted at this. "Not a chance. We worked too hard to find it, it's not leaving my side until we're done with it. Imagine what the Ravenclaws would do if they found out about it… they'd have a fit, say it belongs to them." Harry stopped and looked down to his bag setting on the floor next to him. "Besides, it's nothing I can't deal with. Madame Pomfrey gave me some Dreamless Sleep Potion, so I'll be fine."

Looking around, Harry could tell that this wasn't exactly what his friends wanted to hear. Hermione seemed very uncertain. Ron still looked befuddled. Ginny, however, was staring straight at him, probably the most concerned of all.

"Harry…" she said softly, barely more than a whisper, "I don't think it's a good idea." She spoke firmly and confidently, but her face was soft, showing her deep concern was genuine. "It could start to control you. Like the diary did me."

Harry nodded in understanding, seeing where she was coming from now. "I had thought about that too," he told her. "But I think it's just getting into my head when my guard is down. And making me relive things." Ginny opened her mouth, no doubt to tell him that was how it had started with her, but Harry stopped her. "I don't think it can control me unless I start to put some of myself into it. Like when you wrote in the diary, and confided in it."

That didn't seem to placate Ginny as much as Harry hoped. She slouched in her chair, and it was clear something was still on her mind. Before Harry could pry into it, Hermione spoke up again.

"You said your Occlumency was able to block it out… but I thought you always kept your mind shielded," she said, her tentativeness not gone at all.

While he admired and appreciated his friend's persistency, part of Harry merely wished they would let it go. He wasn't keen on reliving what had happened earlier, and this was something he would rather sort out on his own. "Yeah, you're right Hermione," Harry told her, "but with all that's been going on, I guess I've been letting my protection slip a bit." Hermione looked at him sternly, and Harry quickly added, "But now that I know the problem, I'll make sure it doesn't happen anymore."

Hermione looked like she wanted to argue the point further, but somehow, she suddenly realised how late it had become. With N.E.W.T.s bearing down on them, Harry was somewhat surprised she could spare this much time. But that didn't matter, as the Hermione he was used to kicked in, and she began hurriedly packing up her bag.

"I guess we probably should get going," Ron said, rising to his feet. "You sure you'll be all right Harry?"

Harry nodded and brushed it off, as if there wasn't a problem to begin with.

"Well, see you tomorrow then," Ron said, stifling a yawn as he turned toward the door. Hermione gave Harry one last worried look before following Ron out of the room.

Ginny, however, hadn't moved from her seat. Harry looked back to her, staring straight at him. The soft moonlight shining through the window caught her face perfectly, paling her face and making her look even more beautiful. Harry remembered instantly how it was so easy not to fight the Love Potion last year.

She was chewing her lip, as if she couldn't think of exactly what she wanted to say. Or perhaps she wasn't sure if she should say what she was thinking. Harry had an idea to why she had stayed behind.

"Ginny, it's no big deal," he told her calmly. "Just a couple of nightmares… nothing new to me."

This was apparently the wrong thing to say, and Harry realised it as soon as the words left his mouth, and Ginny's face hardened. "Don't you dare try to push this aside like it's nothing," she said harshly. "Ron and Hermione don't understand like I do. I know what's happening to you, because it happened to me as well. And I can't watch you go through the same."

Harry sighed. "Look, it's not the same as with you. You were letting it draw from you. It took power from what you were putting into the Diary, and that's how it controlled you." Ginny looked hurt, and Harry understood why. "I didn't mean it like that. You weren't weak, you just didn't know. You couldn't have known. And even if you had… it was Voldemort." He looked Ginny in the eye and told her, "You're one of the strongest people I know."

Harry didn't need to explain any further. Ginny managed a soft smile and said, "Thanks Harry." She let out a deep breath. She had calmed considerably, but still seemed worried. "But," she started, "but what if it does start to draw from you? Couldn't it?"

Not taking his eyes from her, Harry nodded. "Anything's possible. But as long as I keep my mind shielded, I'll be fine. I was able to shut it out before, right?" Harry didn't believe himself that it would be quite that easy, but he didn't want to show any doubt. "Besides," he added, "we'll destroy it soon enough, won't we?"

Ginny smiled again. They both sat there for several moments, eyes locked, neither knowing what more to say. Eventually, Ginny sat up and said, "I should go. They'll be waiting for me." Harry nodded and stood up with her. "Goodnight Harry… I hope you get some sleep," she said, before turning and leaving the room.

Harry watched her go, and continued staring at the door for a few minutes after Ginny left. He couldn't seem to make sense of his thoughts. They continued on long after he got into bed, and he lay there for the longest time.

It was clear that Ginny still had feelings for him. And Harry had to figure she intended for their relationship to resume once this whole mess was over. But Harry still wasn't sure what he felt for her.

He could still remember clearly their time together the previous year. Even though he had been acting under the effects of the Potion, he could recall what had happened and what he had felt then. But how could he know how much of that was him and how much was the potion? Or whether the potion created false feelings, or, rather, amplified existing, previously unexplored ones.

Harry couldn't bear to tell Ginny the truth about their earlier relationship. Considering what she still felt, it would devastate her to find out that Harry wasn't acting of his own accord.

And then Harry thought of Hermione. He knew he felt something for her, but it was as unclear and jumbled as with Ginny. What if it turned out he should be with Hermione? Could he simply cast Ginny aside? When she had waited her whole life for him? After all, wasn't it he who ended their relationship under the pretense of "I can't be close to anyone as long as Voldemort is around"?

Harry couldn't remember a time when he had been more confused. In the back of his mind, he couldn't help but be somewhat happy that he was dwelling on normal teenage problems at the moment. As bad as it was, it was a welcome break from his usual burdens.

And it was too these thoughts that Harry finally drifted off to sleep.

.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.

Harry opened his eyes, almost as soon as he had closed them.

He immediately realised he was no longer in his bed. Far from it, actually. He was standing on solid ground, in the middle of an empty field. The usual layer of fog that clung to the ground was absent, and the full moon over head shone brightly. Harry could see for miles, but was unable to make out anything in the darkness.

He looked up to the sky. There wasn't a cloud in sight, nor was there a single star. Only the moon, hanging perilously overhead. It looked so close, Harry was sure he could touch it. But he knew if he did, it would fall from its perch.

Harry's eyes shifted back down, and he was surprised to see something. A figure, dressed all in black, quite far in front of him. He squinted his eyes and peered forward at the figure, to find that it was approaching him. Harry saw billowing robes, though the wind was nonexistent.

Unsure, Harry made to reach for his wand, but found he could not move. His arms, in fact his whole body, was firmly bound to something. He could feel it against his back, a tree or a pole or a stone. Harry struggled as the figure drew closer.

And then it was upon him. He pulled back the hood of his cloak, and revealed his face to Harry. It was like that of a snake, though recognisably human. Ghastly white, there was no nose, but instead two vertical slits for nostrils. The eyes glowed an unnatural red, staring straight at Harry.

Harry doubled his struggle to free himself, but it did no good. In front of him, Lord Voldemort grinned menacingly. "It's futile, Harry Potter." His voice was high and cold, piercing Harry, as though he was in the presence of a Dementor. "You cannot free yourself. At least, not until you have seen the reason I brought you here."

The chill continued deep inside Harry, long after Voldemort had ceased speaking. Harry tried to say something, to shout at the other figure, but found himself unable. His lips seemed to be sewn shut.

"There will be plenty of time to scream, Harry. Just be patient," Voldemort spoke again, his voice full of wickedness.

Not more than a second after he finished speaking, another figure appeared beside the pair. Harry would have been completely shocked if he hadn't seen the same person so recently. Standing there beside Voldemort, looking around in confusion, was Cedric Diggory.

He seemed to notice Harry first, and his eyes widened in surprise. He was about to rush forward and free Harry, when he noticed Voldemort standing beside him. Cedric immediately drew his wand, but it was cast aside as quickly as it was drawn, with a flick from Voldemort's own wand.

Defensless, Cedric began backing away, fear evident in his eyes. He looked back and forth between the approaching Voldemort, and Harry. "Harry," he pleaded, sounding as helpless as he looked. "Harry, do something. Save me Harry."

Harry continued to struggle against his bonds. He wanted to do something, to fight back, to help Cedric. But he couldn't do a thing. Cedric fell to his knees and stared feebly at Harry.

"_Avada Kedavra_."

A green flash struck him in the chest, and Cedric toppled forward. Harry looked down at the dead figure, eyes wide open, still staring up at him. He wanted to scream, but he couldn't.

"Did you not like that, Harry?" Voldemort asked calmly. "Still won't fight back? Let us try another then."

It continued on like this, as Harry watched his friends and family murdered in front of his eyes. Sirius, Dumbledore, his parents, Angelina, Padma… everyone Voldemort had killed that meant something to him. Everyone he wished he could have saved. Then Voldemort moved on to those that were still alive. Remus, Tonks, Hagrid, Luna, Neville… they all died just as easily as Cedric had. None of them could fight back, and they all looked to Harry to save them. But Harry was still helpless to stop it. No matter how hard he fought, he couldn't move. The bodies continued to pile up, all staring at him with their blank, hollow eyes.

The next two figures appeared together: Ron and Hermione. This was more than Harry could take. He wouldn't watch this anymore. He tried to close his eyes, but found them unable, held open in the same way his mouth was held shut. It didn't matter. He was done seeing this. He fought back with all his might, resisting whatever was holding him there. And then…

He was back in his bed.

As suddenly as it had happened, it was over. Harry was dripping with sweat, his heart was pounding, and his hands were shaking, but at least he was free from his dream. He hadn't even notice falling asleep and drifting into the dream. It had felt so real. But it was over now.

Yet… Harry didn't seem to be calming down as he usually would after one of his nightmares. Something still felt out of place. He slowly got up out of bed.

As soon as he set his feet on the ground, he heard those same whispered voices again, from far off at first, but quickly catching up to him. They surrounded him. Harry tried to shut them out, to cover his ears, but they wouldn't leave him. He tried to close off his mind, but he couldn't find the concentration to do it properly.

He was starting to grow angry. Harry rushed over to his bag and reached inside, grabbing to object of his problems. He pulled out the small statue, hoping he could stop it at the source.

The sapphires set in the eagle's eyes were glowing bright blue, boring into him. With the Horcrux out of Harry's bag, the voices were growing louder and clearer.

"Shut UP!!" Harry shouted, and as he forcefully emphasised the second word, he hurled the statuette at the wall across the room. It hit the far wall with a dull clunk and fell to the floor.

Harry watched in fear as it landed and immediately righted itself, slowly turning back towards Harry. In an act of desperation, Harry grabbed his wand from his nightstand.

"_Reducto!_" he shouted, and the curse flew from his wand. It collided with the eagle, and then disappeared. It didn't destroy the statue or reflect off. It was as if it was simply absorbed into the Horcrux.

But somehow, the whispers stopped. Harry sighed in relief and took advantage of the Horcrux's temporary lapse in its torment of him. He rushed over to a nearby table and grabbed the bottle of Dreamless Sleep potion. After unstopping it, he took a deep drink. Harry had just enough time to set the bottle back on the table before he collapsed onto the floor in a heap.

.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.

"Harry, you look terrible."

The words snapped Harry out of his trance, and as soon as time caught up with him, he glared at Ron. "Thanks Ron, I'm glad you're here to tell me these things."

He didn't mean to be so short with his best friend, but Harry felt like he hadn't slept at all last night. He woke up feeling like he had just closed his eyes moments before, and he knew instantly that it wasn't going to be a good day. He couldn't stop himself from being so annoyed with everyone.

Besides, Ron was right. Harry had caught sight of himself in the mirror earlier, and he _did_ look terrible. His hair was messier than usual. His normally bright green eyes were dull, and very bloodshot. Dark rings had appeared underneath his eyelids, and his entire face seemed worn and creased, making him look much older than he actually was.

"But he's right Harry," Hermione said from his other side. "What happened last night?"

"Just some more bad dreams, that's all," Harry told her quickly, hoping to change the subject.

"But I thought you were—"

"Just drop it," Harry cut her off, speaking harshly. "There's nothing you can do, all right? So just leave it!"

Harry immediately regretted what he said when he saw the hurt look on Hermione's face. She didn't respond, but merely looked back down at her plate. Ron looked warily from Harry to Hermione, afraid if he said the wrong thing, Harry would rage at him. He hastily stood up and pulled Ginny to her feet with him.

"Well, Ginny and have Quidditch practice," he told them. "The match with Hufflepuff's next week and all. Harry, mate, have a nap or something, you'll feel much better."

"Thanks Ron," Harry muttered as they marched off. Hermione was still staring down at her meal, but not touching it.

"Look, Hermione," he told her, "I didn't mean what I said. I've just been so on edge lately." Hermione looked up at this. "I know you were trying to help. Like always."

She smiled at Harry. "Don't worry about it. You have a lot going on right now. I can't imagine how hard it must be."

Ordinarily, Harry would merely nod at the simple statement. But for some reason, it hit him hard. "Hermione," he said, almost pleadingly, "I can't keep doing this. It's got to stop… I need you're help." He knew what she must have been thinking, as if she hadn't been helping before. "I know we've been trying, but I have to get rid of this—" Harry stopped himself from saying 'Horcrux' just in time, remembering they were still in the Great Hall. "This thing. But there must be something else we can do… somewhere else we can look."

Hermione sighed, but nodded in understanding. "I know, Harry, but what else can we do? Dumbledore removed all the books we would need from the Library, and the ones from Grimmauld Place haven't been useful. Even Dumbledore's portrait is stumped. And no one else knows a thing about them, or has even heard the word before. We just… need…" Hermione trailed off.

Before Harry knew it, Hermione was on her feet, and pulling Harry from his seat. He had just enough time grab hold of the strap of his bag before he was dragged from the Great Hall. Many of the other students watched in curiosity. "Hermione, where are you—" he tried to get out once they were beyond the doors, but Hermione interrupted him.

"I can't believe I didn't think of it before," she said vaguely, more to herself than anyone. She allowed a split-second for Harry to stand up straight before she grabbed his hand and started leading him hurriedly down the corridor. "I mean, I know it's a long shot, but we should still try."

"Hermione," Harry tried again, attempting to hold her back but failing. "Why won't you tell me where we're going?"

She didn't bother to slow down, but instead pulled him closer to her and whispered. "We're going to see the only other person who knows about Horcruxes, of course. Slughorn."

Realisation hit Harry as suddenly as it had hit Hermione. Slughorn _did_ know about Horcruxes. Not about the creation of them, but he certainly had _some_ information on them. And on top of that, he was one of the very few wizards who knew that Voldemort had created his own.

Harry allowed himself to be led along the passage to the dungeons, where Professor Slughorn's office was. Surely he would be there, as he usually ate breakfast alone. Sure enough, his wheezy voice called for them to enter upon knocking on his door.

"Ah! Miss Granger, Harry! Please, do come in," he said excitedly. He led them into his office and conjured two comfortable armchairs facing his desk for them. "I must say," he went on while returning to his seat, "that essay you handed in yesterday on gauging effectiveness of various truth serums was quite remarkable, Miss Granger." Hermione beamed and thanked him. "Oh, it was my pleasure, such a wonderful read. Truly outstanding work. Though," he added less enthusiastically, "I must mention that I still haven't received yours, Harry."

"Yeah, I've been meaning to get that to you Professor," Harry said, shifting in his seat. In truth, he had completely forgotten about the assignment. Though, even if he hadn't, he couldn't say he would have finished, with everything that had happened.

"Oh, not to worry, dear boy," Slughorn said jovially. "I know you have quite a lot on your plate at the moment. Minerva keeps me informed. I'm sure you'll get it to me in no time. Besides, one late essay won't get you a Dreadful N.E.W.T. now, will it?" He laughed heartily, but his laugh quickly turned into a hoarse cough. He stifled it with a sip of red liquid from his goblet.

"Actually Professor, we had a different reason for coming to see you," Hermione told him, trying to get to the point.

Slughorn looked up from his drink interestedly. "And what might that be, Miss Granger? Anything I can do to help a student of your caliber."

Before Hermione could answer, Harry leaned over and whispered in her ear, so that Slughorn couldn't hear them. "Are you sure about this? We've kept this a secret so Voldemort wouldn't get wind of what we were up to. Can we really trust him not to tell someone else?" After all, while Horace Slughorn was a decent man and a very capable wizard, it wasn't too hard to get what you wanted from him. A few drinks or some well-placed compliments and he would tell you whatever you wanted to know.

Hermione didn't seem to think this was a problem though. She placed her mouth right next to Harry's ear and whispered back. "It'll be fine, Harry. Remember, he's ashamed for giving Voldemort information about them. That's why he's kept it to himself all these years. And if something _does_ happen, he's very good at protecting himself. Or hiding."

After a few moments, Harry decided she was right. He sat up straight in his chair as Hermione continued. "Sorry about that," she said. "As I was saying, we had a problem and we knew only you were wise enough to help us with it." Harry mentally praised her flattery, and knew the blatant starkness didn't matter.

Slughorn, as expected, puffed out his chest a little and smiled at the pair of them. "Of course I can help out two students as bright and promising as you. What can I do?"

"Well, we wanted you to look at this," Hermione told him, reaching into Harry's bag. She withdrew the statuette and placed it on Slughorn's desk.

His eyes immediately widened. Apparently he knew exactly what he was looking at. For the most part. Slughorn leaned forward and peered over the eagle. "Oh my… this is remarkable!" he exclaimed. "Where ever did you find this? It's been lost for centuries!" Slughorn continued to examine the artifact before him, like a child catching his first sight of gifts on Christmas morning.

Hermione cleared her throat loudly. "Professor… look closer," she prodded.

"Closer you say, Miss Granger?" Slughorn questioned. "What do you mean?" He picked up the statue and continued examining it. He held it inches from his face and turned it over in his hands, inspecting every bit of it.

Harry was beginning to wonder what would happen next, when Slughorn let out a slight yelp. Then, with speed Harry would have thought beyond the aging man, he dropped the eagle roughly on the table and backed away from the desk. A look of horror was etched on his face, and he gaped back and forth between Harry, Hermione, and the Horcrux. For several moments he babbled incoherently, unable to form words to express his shock and disbelief. Harry decided to wait until the Potions Master calmed down.

"Th-that—that … is that?" he stammered when he finally found his voice. Slughorn continued to stare at Harry and Hermione. "Is that what I think?"

"It is, Professor," Hermione told him.

Slughorn shook his head in disbelief. "No—no it can't be… it just can't." He tried opening his mouth twice, but no words came out. Finally, on the third try, he managed, "Why have you brought this here?"

Hermione leaned closer to the desk. "You knew this existed, sir. When Voldemort came back, you knew how. Now, we need your help."

"I didn't know!" Slughorn pleaded. "How could I have? He was such a curious boy, always asking questions… I thought it was for school. I never would have told him if I had known what he would do!"

"Professor," Harry spoke up this time. "Professor, no one blames you. Not even Dumbledore. Tom Riddle would have figured out somewhere else if you hadn't told him. But it doesn't matter how he found out now." Harry knew they needed to calm him down, and soon. Last year when the subject had come up, Slughorn had dodged the question, and avoided Harry for half a term.

"Dumbledore," Slughorn repeated. "Dumbledore knew as well. He knew all." He then became angry, and said, nearly shouting, "Go, and ask his portrait, and be gone. Take this… this _thing_ away and leave me in peace."

"But we can't," Hermione said, raising her voice as well. "We've tried Dumbledore, and he doesn't know what we need. But you may. Please sir… you're the only one who can help us now."

The rotund man glace from Harry to Hermione again. "I can't," he mumbled, "I just can't."

"You can, Professor," Harry said. "Think of the good it'll do. With your help, we can make Voldemort mortal once again. You'd be doing a service to the whole world. You'd help us take one big step towards defeating him for good."

Slughorn still didn't look convinced. It took a few more minutes of persuasion and less than subtle flattery before he finally gave in. He heaved out a great sigh and asked, "What do you need of me?"

Before answering, Hermione looked around the dimly light dungeon room. Then, she drew her wand and locked the door. After a moment's hesitation, she added a few more Locking and Privacy Charms. When she was satisfied, she turned back to their deflated professor. "The thing is, Professor, we can't figure out how to destroy it. With the—I mean, from what I've read," Hermione caught herself before she could let slip that there was more than one Horcrux. Harry was glad too, because he was sure if Slughorn would be able to handle that. "It's just, there doesn't seem to be any Enchantment binding the fragment to the object. And if we can't find the Enchantment, we can't remove it and release the soul piece." Hermione finished and looked expectantly at Slughorn.

Instead of answering, he peered at the statue, not daring to get too close, but examining it as best he could from a distance. He looked back to Hermione warily, as if he had an answer, but didn't want to give it, for fear of what they might think. "Anything you could give us would help," Hermione nudged.

With another sigh, Slughorn spoke softly, "You're right about that, Miss Granger. But there is another way to make a… a Horcrux." He was still afraid to say the word, but Harry and Hermione let him continue at his own pace. "The basic way is to encase the fragment in an Enchantment, inside the vessel. There is a spell to do this. But I believe Tom has figured out another way. One even more dark and horrible, if you can imagine." Slughorn seemed to shudder at the mere thought of it, but continued. "What it seems he has done… is taken that soul piece, and made it a part of this relic."

Slughorn paused. Harry didn't seem to understand his answer though. "I'm sorry Professor, but isn't it already a part of it?"

The Potions Master, who had been addressing Hermione, looked startled when Harry spoke up. After a moment, he answered, "Well, yes, but in a different way. Instead of hiding the soul piece inside an object, it appears he has merged it completely. As if he has given this eagle a soul of its own. If you were to animate this, it might as well be alive."

Hermione backed away slightly when she heard this, as if the Horcrux had suddenly become even more dangerous. Harry however wasn't too surprised by this revelation. He knew there was something different about this Horcrux, and he had seen what it could do. "So then, how do we get rid of it?" he asked as Hermione continued to turn this over in her head.

"There is only one way," Slughorn said. "The Killing Curse."

Silence hung heavily in the air after these words were spoken. Hermione instantly snapped out of her thoughts and looked at Slughorn. Harry shifted uncomfortably in his seat, unable to keep from thinking back to his last experience with the Killing Curse.

Eventually, Hermione said, "I don't think I understand."

"Well," Slughorn said, though he clearly wasn't keen on giving an explanation, "surely you know how the Killing Curse kills?" Hermione and Harry both shook their heads. "It severs the soul from the body. Completely and irreversibly."

Harry paused to let that sink in. Hermione's brain was always moving though. "But then how is that different than a Dementor?" she asked. "When they take your soul, the victims don't die."

"Ah, right you are," answered Slughorn. "But, when a Dementor takes your soul, it still exists in this world. Though it's hidden deep inside the Dementor, it is still bound to the mortal realm, or whatever you will call it. Only when a soul moves on to what awaits us after life, that is when the soul's connection with the body breaks entirely, and the body can survive no longer."

"So you're saying," Harry started, trying to sum up what he had just heard, "if we cast the Killing Curse on this, that should rid it of the soul fragment?"

"I believe so, yes."

"Then will you do that for us?" Harry asked.

Slughorn's reaction was not unexpected. The large professor grew red and stammered, "W-what—what are you saying? I hope you're not implying I've ever—not once in my many years…" He continued blustering on until Hermione finally jumped in and calmed him.

"We didn't mean it like that, sir," she said soothingly. "It's just, a wizard of you wisdom would surely know the spell. And one of your power could cast it. We know such a distinguished man would never stoop to murder. But, Harry and I are just students, you see. We've no idea how to, and probably couldn't if we tried." Harry couldn't help thinking how brilliant Hermione was. She knew Slughorn couldn't resist such praise.

And it worked to. The Potions Master visibly calmed, though still breathing heavily, and said, "Of course, of course that's what you meant. I suppose you're right, as well. You two couldn't, but I can give it a try." Taking another deep breath, he stood up and drew his wand. "You may want to step back," he told them.

Harry and Hermione immediately rose to their feet and backed away from the desk. Once at a safe distance, they watched their professor work. He was standing over the Horcrux, brow furrowed, apparently in deep concentration. Harry mentally begged, to no one in particular, that this would be the end.

Then, with a flick so fast it was almost unseen to them, Slughorn shouted, "_Avada Kedavra!_"

A jet of sickeningly green light zoomed across the short distance and struck the eagle silently. There was a bright flash on impact, but the statue wasn't destroyed. It glowed that same green for several moments. When the light finally faded, Harry approached cautiously, ignoring Slughorn, who was now breathing even heavier.

The statue was perfectly intact. Harry reached out warily, but felt nothing. Behind him, Hermione gave him some warning, but Harry ignored it and touched one of the wings lightly with his fingertips. Nothing happened. He picked it up and examined it as thoroughly as possible, but he could sense anything inside. The soul fragment had gone.

"It worked," he said simply. Hermione walked over and checked out the former Horcrux for herself.

"Please," Slughorn spoke up, "Please, ask no more of me."

"We won't Professor," Harry told him. "You've done more than enough. You may just have saved the war for us." He knew they should leave him alone, so he grabbed his bag, set the statue inside it, and led Hermione from the room.

"Hermione, you're a genius," Harry told her once they were back in the hallway. "Who knows what we would have done if you hadn't thought to ask Slughorn."

"I'm sure someone would have come up with it sooner or later," Hermione brushed it off. They strode briskly down the corridor, wanting to get outside to tell Ron the good news. "I'm just glad it's almost over."

For some reason, something in her words made Harry stop dead in his tracks. "Harry? What is it?" she asked. Hermione walked back to where he stood and looked at him questioningly. "That's it right? That was the last one, Voldemort's mortal now, right?"

…

"No."

.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.

A/N – so anyway… I thought deathly hallows was pretty good. It made HBP look not quite as bad. The only problem I had with it was, as I read I couldn't help notice similarities and differences between it and my story. And that kind of took away from it. There were a few days after I finished where I felt like quitting this story, because I thought "what's the point?" But I decided against that, as I was almost finished with this chapter, and I like my story and want to finish it. So, review if you wish.


	19. The Way Things Used To Be

**Chapter 19**

**The Way Things Used To Be**

"What do you mean 'no'?"

Hermione's question sounded very far off to Harry. It just barely seeped through his thoughts, but he still ignored it. He couldn't believe his answer. He had just told Hermione that the Horcrux they had just destroyed, the one they thought to be the final one, wasn't. The enormous relief of their mission finally coming to an end had disappeared as quickly as it had come. Harry couldn't explain it. He didn't know how he knew. He just _knew_.

"You're kidding, right?" Hermione spoke again, and this time Harry looked over to her. She was deeply confused.

"I—no," Harry answered. "I don't know… I just—" he stopped again, unable to find the right words.

"Well you're the only one who does," Hermione said harshly. "Come on," she went on, grabbing his arm, "we're going up to your room and we're going to figure this out.

Harry allowed himself to be led along the corridor and all the way back up to his room. The pair didn't speak at all the entire way back. Once back in the safety of Harry's private room, away from prying ears, Hermione sat down in one of the armchairs. Harry walked over to her and set Ravenclaw's artifact down on the table before sitting across from her. She looked at him expectantly, but Harry didn't know what to say.

"Well?" she asked after several moments of silence.

Harry sighed. "I don't really know how to… I don't understand how I know," he started. As much as he was trying to relay information to Hermione, he was also trying to figure it out for himself. "Something happened when this—" he gestured to the statue "—was tormenting me. Whatever it was doing, it was getting into my mind. That's how it was making me see things, and giving me nightmares. And I could always sense where it was. Even the times when I left my bag here to go down and see Hagrid or work in the greenhouses. I could feel that it was up here. Does that make sense?"

Hermione simply nodded.

"Well, I still feel that same… feeling," Harry told her. "I can still sense another Horcrux."

When he said this, Hermione didn't speak, but he could see her mind working away. He desperately hoped she could make some sense of this. After several minutes, Hermione asked, "Couldn't it just be Voldemort that you're feeling?"

Harry considered it, but knew it wasn't that simple. "No, it's not. I can always feel Voldemort through my scar, except when the connection is blocked. This is something different."

Hermione thought for a few more minutes before shaking her head. She looked up at Harry with a rueful smile. "Things can just never be easy for us, can they?"

"Afraid not," Harry answered.

"Can you at least tell where it is?" Hermione asked hopefully.

Harry closed his eyes and tried, but it was useless. He shook his head. "I don't know… it's just _there_."

Hermione slumped back in her seat. She looked completely dejected, and Harry knew why. He felt the same way she looked. For a few precious minutes, it was finally over for them. Their months of searching and searching had come to an end. All the frustrating time they had spent in the library or in Harry's room, seeming to get nowhere. All the scouring useless locations and questioning useless leads, until that rare handful of times they had gotten incredibly lucky. And it had been over.

But now, who knew how much longer it could take? How long would they go before the got that one lucky break again. Harry felt like he could scream.

"That was our last hope, Harry," Hermione told him bluntly. "We're out of ideas." Harry merely nodded. "We're going to have to check out everything we ever thought of." Hermione paused, and her mind starting working again. "We could try Nagini."

"Only as a last resort," Harry told her. "For the reasons I originally had, as well as her protection. She'll be with Voldemort, so we can't really get one without the other. And we're not ready for Voldemort."

"Right. We could try the orphanage?"

"We could," Harry agreed. "It's better than nothing, I suppose. What else?"

"Well," Hermione said, "I think we should wait till Ron gets back

.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.

As Harry had expected, nothing they tried had any success. It seemed to be on par for him, so he wasn't surprised in the least.

He, Hermione, and Ron had managed to come up with a few more ideas on places to search, but their basis for looking there was so flimsy, none of the three anticipated much. There was some satisfaction in knowing where a Horcrux _wasn't_, but in looking in an area as vast as the country, it wasn't all that much.

The first place the trio tried was the orphanage. And they found absolutely nothing there. Harry was correct in originally surmising as much. Tom Riddle hated there, and he would never want to lay eyes on it again, let alone use it to store something of such great significance.

After that, they were merely grasping at straws. They tried Borgin and Burkes, where Tom Riddle had once worked. Hermione had gone on about how a wizard's first job out of school was so important. They even combed Hogwarts again, knowing they wouldn't find anything, but deciding to look instead. The frustrating part wasn't that they didn't find anything. It was that they didn't have any clue where to look.

It was the middle of March now. The grounds had warmed enough that many students were studying outside, a welcome break after being trapped inside during the harsh winter. The months of bleak grey had since given way to lush green. Harry looked down at them from the window in his room.

He would have liked to switch places with any of them, even if for a few moments. He wondered if any of them knew how lucky they were right now. In the castle, safe from Voldemort and the fighting outside, with no cares except homework and exams, or if their house would win the next Quidditch match.

"Harry, are you even _trying_ to study?"

"No," Harry answered Hermione's question, not even bothering to look away from the window. He just couldn't seem to concentrate on school recently.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Hermione winding up for long speech about the importance of grades or their inability to simply sit around and waste time. Fortunately, Harry was saved by Hedwig swooping through the open window. She circled the room once before landing on Harry's leg and presenting a rolled up piece of parchment. He quickly removed it and stroked the snowy owl's feathers in thanks. A quick glance at the untidy writing immediately told Harry who had sent it.

"It's from Hagrid," he said to Ron and Hermione, both of whom had stopped what they were doing and looked over at him.

Harry quickly read through it, pausing a handful of times to decipher parts of it. "Just an update really," he told them as he read. "Hmm… Grawp's been using a few whole sentences recently. Hagrid must be working with him a lot."

"Harry?"

Harry looked over at Hermione and raised his eyebrows. "You want to read it?" he asked.

"No, not that," Hermione shook her head. "I just figured we should go down to Hagrid's hut. It's been about a week now since we've been. And since you can't seem to focus on your work anyway…" she trailed off.

"Yeah, we can do that," Harry agreed. "It'll be nice to get outside for a little bit." He stood up, sending Hedwig flapping off his leg and circling the room again before landing on his shoulder. "In fact," he added as an afterthought, "maybe we could ask him about Voldemort. He did go to school with Tom Riddle… maybe he can tell us something we don't know."

It was obviously a long shot, but neither of his friends disagreed.

.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.

The trip down to Hagrid's cabin was a pleasant one. A light breeze blew across the grounds, cooling the trio as the walked through the lush grass. Hedwig wasn't hungry or tired, so she had remained on Harry's shoulder, accompanying them.

Upon reaching Hagrid's house, Ron knocked several times on the heavy wooden door. Hagrid's gruff voice immediately called out, "Who is it?" Harry saw a large hairy face peek through the curtains. "Ah, it's you three," he said again. "C'min, C'min."

The door opened for them and Hagrid ushered them inside. Harry stepped into the familiar and comfortable one-room house. Hedwig, however, took one look at Fang and sought refuge on one of the rafters.

"Sit down, then," Hagrid told them. "I'll put the tea on."

The three of them did just that as Hagrid fiddled with the kettle. From the kitchen, he offered them something to eat, but Harry and Hermione politely declined. Ron seemed to be wrestling with his own hunger, and his fear of Hagrid's cooking. In the end, he shook his head as well.

"I take it yeh got my letter, Harry?" Hagrid asked once he had sat down with them. "So what brings yeh down 'ere?"

"Well, we needed a break from studying," Harry told him. "And we hadn't been by in a while."

Hagrid beamed at him. "That's awful nice of yeh. I sure 'ave missed having you three in my class."

The four of them went on for a while, talking about many different things. Hagrid was curious to hear about how their N.E.W.T. level classes were going, and was eager to discuss his Care of Magical Creatures lessons in more detail. Harry, Hermione, and Ron, on the other hand, were interested in what the Order had been doing in recent days. Harry was pleased to hear the outside world was still putting up a fight, and it wasn't futile.

After a while, Harry finally decided to ask the question he had on his mind. "Hey Hagrid," he said when there was a lull in the conversation. The half-giant looked over at him. "There was actually another reason we came down to see you. We had something to ask you."

"Well then ask away, Harry," Hagrid said brightly.

"It's just," Harry hesitated. At first he wasn't sure how to bring up the topic, but settled on simply being straight with his friend. "I was wondering if you could tell me anything about Tom Riddle."

Hagrid frowned. "Tom Riddle, yeh say?" He paused and ran his thick fingers through his even thicker beard. "Hmm… not sure I can tell yeh much that yeh don' already know."

"Maybe not," Harry said, "but we were just hoping you could tell us anything you remember about him. From when he was at school here."

Hagrid took a deep drink from his large mug and sat back in his chair. "Well, let me think," he started. "It was an awful long time ago, yeh see. But I'll try to remember." He took another swig and let out a sigh. "He woulda bin a third year when I started. Can't say I saw much o' him then. He was a Slytherin, o' course. In fact, I don' even think I noticed him till me third year."

Harry knew that was the year when Hagrid was expelled, and Tom Riddle was to blame. He moved forward in his seat some. Beside him, he could tell Ron and Hermione were paying closer attention as well.

"He was a prefect then, yeh see," Hagrid went on. "Hard not to notice them, yeh'll know that. He had the whole staff as fans o' his. Whenever they spoke of him, 'specially Slughorn, it was praise. I didn' buy it though. Always seemed a bit stuck up to me. Full of himself. An' there was somethin' else to him. Somethin' fishy. Always had a group o' followers, where ever he went. Became his Death Eaters, o' course, and yeh'll know them by now. I expect there's not much o' that group left by now though. After that… well, yeh know how he set me up, got me chucked out. He was clever about it too… knew just what he was doin'. Heck, I'dve believed he was innocent if I'd bin someone else."

Hagrid drained the last contents of his mug and set it down on the table with a loud _clunk_. "Tha's about it," he continued. "I stayed on and helped out the gamekeeper, and didn' see much of anyone up at the school after that. 'Fore I knew it, Dumbledore was Headmaster, Tom Riddle was You-Know-Who, and war was breakin' out everywhere. I 'spect you know the rest."

Harry simply nodded.

"'Fraid I can't remember much more than that," Hagrid added. "I wish I could be more help to yeh."

Harry mentally sighed. It was about what he had expected, but he had still hoped for something more. He looked over to see a dejected look on Ron's face. Hermione's, however, was impassive.

"So what else then?" Hagrid went on. "Lookin' forward to the match tomorrow?"

Ron snapped out of it immediately. "That reminds me," he said, checking his watch, "practice will be starting soon."

.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.

The match, as it turned out, was one of the better ones that Harry could remember. The Hufflepuff squad was rarely the strongest one out there, but this day they played like they were.

It wasn't very often that Harry was forced to watch a Gryffindor Quidditch match from the stands, and he had never gotten used to it. In fact, even when he would watch the other houses play each other every year, he experienced the same pang of jealousy. It was almost torture watching the other players soar around the pitch and not being able to join them.

On this particular day, Harry chose a seat high up in the stands, where he felt he had the best view. From there, he could watch the whole game without having to constantly whip his head around to follow the action. Neville, Hermione, and Luna sat beside him, each sporting various pieces to show their support for Gryffindor.

The match ended up lasting fairly long, nearly five hours. Which, in truth, was very, very long for a game of Quidditch. Harry couldn't remember a game he played in that lasted more than an hour. By then, enough time had usually passed for someone to get the Snitch. But as it turned out, luck didn't favour the Seekers this time.

While the Snitch did appear many times, some excellent defending on both side kept either Seeker from having an easy time of things. They both seemed to be playing more cautiously than Harry would have figured. The Hufflepuff Seeker was likely to do that, as Harry knew, but he didn't expect that from Ginny. And he couldn't help thinking back to when he played and how focused he was on catching that tiny golden ball. It often meant he would get hit by a Bludger now and again.

That didn't mean there were no injuries, though. The reserve players were frequently having to jump off the bench and fill in while their teammates got patched up. Madam Pomfrey had her hands full healing cuts and mending broken bones.

The game, though long, was certainly not boring. Both teams played intensely the entire time, and neither could gain a lead for much time before their opponents came storming back.

Lucky for Harry and his friends, Gryffindor won in the end. Ginny finally grabbed the Snitch as the sun began to set, making the lengthy match worthwhile. With a final score of seventeen-hundred sixty to sixteen-hundred forty, it put Gryffindor in good position going in to their last match, and they were favourites to win the cup again.

Afterwards, the usual post-match celebrations followed. Food and drinks were brought up from the kitchen to Gryffindor tower, where a wild party had broken out. Everyone sat around, animatedly discussing their favourite parts of the game, to much cheering. Ron, as well, described he many spectacular saves to whoever would listen. And he got many listeners, toasting to him and patting him on the back.

Ginny was also getting plenty of attention. Bludgers had broken her nose twice during the lengthy game, but once healed, she got right back on her broom and into the thick of things. The front of her robes were stained crimson, but she wore a beaming grin and waved the Snitch for everyone to see.

After about an hour of celebrating with everyone, Harry retreated to a quiet corner of the common room with Hermione. They continued to watch everyone enjoy themselves, but Harry preferred to get out of the middle of the excitement.

As he looked around, and he saw all the happiness, he couldn't help but smile. He knew he shouldn't, with everything that was going on outside the castle. All the deaths and destruction, some of which could have been happening at that very moment. He often dwelled on what was going on and wondered how anyone could be happy in these times. How anyone could even manage a smile.

But he also knew he couldn't think like that. He couldn't simply let himself get bogged down in it all. If that happened, Harry knew he would end up with just one thought in his head. "What's the point?"

He had to remember the world without Voldemort. The world with peace and true happiness. And that gave him the strength to keep going. Harry couldn't really explain it, but such thoughts always seemed to lift him up, and fill him with something he couldn't describe. Whatever it was, he knew he wouldn't give up.

"What are you thinking about?" Hermione asked from beside him, bringing him back to the present.

"The usual," Harry answered.

Hermione took a sip of her drink and nodded in understanding. "Figured out anything new yet?" she said, obviously referring to the Horcrux, but not wanting to speak plainly of it in the crowded room.

Harry shook his head. "Not a single thing. We might as well be looking for a needle in a haystack. Or… a needle stack."

Hermione didn't look surprised. She merely put her head down in thought. Harry let her think, and watched the crowd of students still surrounding Ron, Ginny, Dean, and the rest of the team. Harry sorely wished he could have flown with them, but he was perfectly content to see his friends in the limelight.

With a quick flick of his wrist, Harry grabbed the Snitch as it flew past. The tiny wings beat furiously against his hand, but in vain. He smiled at the familiar sensation, and didn't let go until he noticed Hermione smiling as well.

"You miss it, don't you?"

"Of course," Harry told her. "But there'll be time for that once all this is over."

Hermione nodded in agreement. "You know, Harry, I was thinking about something." The drop in her voice told him they were back to the topic of Horcruxes, so Harry leaned closer. "Maybe we don't have to find the other one just yet," Hermione went on softly.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, after you destroyed Voldemort's body, he went in to hiding," Hermione said. "For, what, thirteen years? Who's to say he won't do it again? It may be a better plan to attack him now and then find the last one before he can get his body back."

Harry thought for a second. "Well, that would be a good plan, save for one thing. The same reason no one else has tried that. Because he's too strong. No one else knows about his… things… so the only thing holding them back is the fact that they can't win."

"So what does that mean for us?" asked Hermione, raising her voice slightly. "Even if we do find the last one, what then? If none of the fully trained wizards can beat him, how will we?"

Harry sat back and sighed. Thinking about his words carefully, he looked Hermione in the eyes and said, "Even if you were one hundred percent certain you would be killed if you fought him… wouldn't you do it anyway?"

Hermione hesitated, but only for a moment. "I would."

"Then there's your answer," Harry told her. He sat back in his chair as Hermione continued to think. The party continued on around them, with no sign of slowing down. It was going on ten now, but the energy level in the room seemed capable of carrying everyone all the way through the night. And Harry didn't blame them. Sure, it was just a Quidditch match, but everyone had so little to celebrate these days. Overhead, the Snitch continued to dart around the room, though not venturing too close to Harry.

After a few minutes, Ginny and Ron made their way through the crowd and over to Harry and Hermione's seats. They looked like they had just returned home from a crusade, robes spattered with blood and dirt, their hair unkempt and still clinging together from dried sweat. But Harry couldn't remember ever seeing them happier.

"Some party, eh?" Ron said, sitting down on the floor in front of them. "Seamus and Dean say we're nearly out of food. Want to nip on down to the kitchens and see what we can get?"

"Sure," Harry said. "It's getting a bit loud in here anyway." He stood up and brushed a few crumbs off the front of the robes.

"Hermione? Ginny? You coming too?" Ron asked. "We could use some extra hands bringing everything back."

Hermione stood up as well. "I think I'll go. To make sure the elves get thanked properly," she added with a pointed look at Ron.

"Just don't try to pay them," Ron quipped.

"I might as well go too," Ginny said. "Dean's been trying to get me alone all night. With you guys gone, I don't think I'll be able to avoid him." She made her way over to the portrait hole, and the others followed.

Ron was the last one out, and closed the portrait behind him. "Think we should stop by your room and grab your cloak Harry?"

"For the four of us?" Harry asked. "There's no way we'd fit. Besides, I've got the map with me. We can just check the path ahead of us."

They set off down to the kitchens, watching the map closely, but other than that, not bothering to be too careful. Harry new he had permission to be out of his room after curfew, thanks to McGonagall, and he figured even if someone caught them, they wouldn't mind a quick trip to the kitchens and back. Harry spotted Moody roaming the fifth floor, but was pretty sure his magical eye, remarkable as it was, couldn't see through that much stone.

The trip turned out to be uneventful. The four of them chatted most of the way down, about Quidditch and school. Even though they were alone, no one brought up the topic of Voldemort or Horcruxes. Just because the map didn't show anyone near them, that didn't mean someone or something couldn't still be listening in. And on top of that, Harry figured everyone deserved to be happy and have a good time, even if just for tonight.

Eventually they made it down to the Entrance Hall, still having come across no one. Harry thought they should have at least had to avoid one person, with the amount of guards the school had, whether teacher or Auror. Harry checked the map again before heading on.

He did a quick scan to make sure Moody and some of the other teachers hadn't ventured any closer to them. And then as he scanned, his eyes passed over a familiar name.

"Whoa, déjà vu," he said under his breath. He looked for that name again, but couldn't find it.

"What is it, Harry?" Ginny asked, apparently hearing him.

"What? Oh, nothing, I just thought I saw something," Harry said. "But it was just…" he trailed off. It didn't seem like déjà vu the longer he thought about it. He was sure he saw that name, impossible as it may have been. It just didn't feel right.

He looked back at the map, searching the area he had just been, and then the areas further away. But he found nothing.

Harry had just about given up, when he saw it again. That same name he had seen a few moments ago. He looked at the ink letters in disbelief. And he didn't believe it, he couldn't. But those words Lupin spoke came ringing through his head: "The map never lies." Sure enough, right there on the opposite side of the first floor, a little dot labeled _Peter Pettigrew_ was darting about.

"Uh oh," Harry said, not taking his eyes off the map.

"What is it?" Ron said. "Did you find what you were looking for?"

But Harry wasn't listening. He was scanning the rest of the map, as quickly as his eyes could cover it. What he saw put a cold lump in the pit of his stomach. There, in every single secret passageway leading into the castle, more and more dots were appearing. He checked and found the same thing in the tunnel under the Whomping Willow, as well as at the front gates. Dozens of little black dots, each bearing the name of a Death Eater.

"I think we're in trouble."

.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.

A/N- once again, I took entirely too long with a chapter. Though this one was rather hard to write. I had to move some things around to make it a little longer. But, as you can tell, the story's starting to pick up, and it's getting closer to the end. Hopefully that means it will be easier to write, and I will get it done sooner. I've been writing this one for over two years now, and really should have finished it. So bear with me. Anyway, review if you wish. I was in a bit of a hurry and didn't check over it too thoroughly, so feel free to point out any mistakes I may have made.


	20. Ashes, Ashes

**Chapter 20**

**Ashes, Ashes**

"Death Eaters? Where?"

Harry didn't answer the question at first. He continued looking at the Marauder's Map, watching the entrances to Hogwarts fill up with tiny black dots. Or, as Harry saw it, the exits.

"Where?" Harry eventually said. "They're everywhere."

Hermione, Ginny, and Ron gathered around him to look at the map as well. They didn't say anything, but Harry could feel the change in their stances as they saw what Harry had been looking at.

"How many are there?" Ginny whispered.

"Too many," Harry answered her.

"But how?" Ron said from his other side. "That's every secret passage leading out of the castle. How could they know?"

Harry's eyes darted back to the map and searched for the other name he was watching. The one that was already inside Hogwarts. "Wormtail. He's here too. And he knows the castle as well as my father and Sirius did."

The feeling of dread inside Harry was growing and swelling every second. He knew there was no way to fight back against such a force. He did his best to remain calm and not panic. That wouldn't help anyone, and he needed a level head for what was about to happen. Without that, it was certain he and his friends wouldn't survive.

After all, he knew this was going to happen sooner or later. He just wished it would have been later. Around him, he could sense panic rising in his friends.

"So what do we do?" Hermione asked, her voice quavering slightly.

Instead of answering, Harry drew his wand. Concentrating on the memory of the earlier Quidditch victory, he flicked his wand and muttered, "_Expecto Patronum_."

Instantaneously, a bright light flashed and Harry's familiar stag Patronus burst forth. It immediately scanned the area, and, after finding no danger, turned and walked over to Harry.

"Dementors?" Ron asked, fear evident in his voice.

Harry shook his head. To his Patronus, he quickly said, "Go and find McGonagall, tell her Death Eaters are attacking and we need to evacuate everyone as soon as possible." The giant stag nodded in understanding. It then turned around and leapt high into the air, and eventually disappeared through the ceiling.

"She'll probably already know by now," Harry said, talking as much to himself as to his friends. "They're still outside the wards, but she should have been alerted."

"Harry, we can't run," Ginny said over him. She sounded confident… more so than she ought to in a situation like this. "We have to stay and fight." Ron and Hermione nodded at this, though they didn't look as sure as Ginny.

"We can't, Ginny," Harry told her, as much as he hated to say it. Maybe a year ago, Harry would have been right beside her, and would have defended the castle, even if it meant certain death. But now, he knew better. He knew there were more things at stake. "I don't want to see Hogwarts in the hands of Voldemort any more than you do, but there's no way we can win. It's too late to organise a proper defence. We'd just end up getting killed."

"How can you say that," Ginny demanded. "Then what was all our training with the D.A. for? If not for something just like this? We could stop them, if we gathered everyone. The castle has some defenses of its own, too. It's not a lost cause."

"I know that," Harry said, "but it's not a certain victory either. Maybe we can win, maybe we can't. But if not, Voldemort's left with a school full of kids." Harry gritted his teeth in frustration and growing anger as he thought about what he would say next. "And what's to say he would take prisoners this time? Voldemort's just as likely to slaughter them all." As much as Harry didn't want to believe that was a possibility, Voldemort had showed many times he wasn't above killing children. "Maybe if we had our backs to the wall… but we still have a chance to escape. All their lives are in our hands. We can't risk it"

Ginny held his gaze for a moment, still looking defiant. But all of the sudden, something seemed to click in her mind, and she nodded. "You're right Harry, we should go."

"Harry?" Hermione spoke up from his side. "I think you should see this."

She was now holding the map, and pointed to a group of tiny black dots outside the front gate. They were space rather far apart, and each bore a single-word name. "Yeah, what about it?" he asked, not recognising any of the names.

"Harry… these are giant names," she whispered, clearly horrified. Next to her, Ron let out a moan. "Fifteen of them," Hermione added.

"Look, that doesn't change anything," Harry told them. "They're not getting into the castle, and we're not going onto the grounds."

Ron didn't look convinced, but Ginny asked, "So what do we do?"

Having thought about this situation many times before, Harry knew what needed to be done, and he had a good idea how to do it. Instead of answering Ginny, he reached into the back pocket of his trousers and pulled out his two-way mirror. "Neville," he said into it. There was no answer at first, so he repeated louder, "Neville!"

After a moment, Neville's face appeared in front of him, grinning widely. Harry could hear the sounds of the party still going on behind him. "Hey Harry!" he said cheerfully. "What's up? Do you need me to help with the food?"

"No, Neville, that's not it. I need you to… Neville!" Neville had turned his head, apparently called by someone else in the room, but looked back when Harry called his name. "This is important. Listen very carefully: Death Eaters are attacking the castle right now. We have to get everyone out, now."

Neville smile instantly fell, and his gaze hardened. "What do you need me to do?" he asked firmly.

"You can use the fireplace in the common room. Have everyone Floo to the Ministry, as fast as you can. You know all the Gryffindors well enough, right?" Neville nodded. Harry went on, "All right then, make sure no one gets left behind, right? Get help from the D.A. members and get everyone out. And once you do that, you follow right behind them. Understand?"

Neville nodded. Harry knew Neville would stay behind and fight off every one of the Death Eaters, even by himself, so Harry had to make sure he would do otherwise. "You can count on me, Harry," he said confidently. "I'll see you when we get out."

Harry nodded, and a split-second later, Neville's face disappeared. He slipped the mirror back in his pocket.

"Will that work, Harry?" Hermione asked. "With the floos, I mean. You can only use them for firecalls."

"McGonagall will have removed the locks from them to let people leave. She knows that's our only way out," Harry said. "Hermione, how much time do you think we have?"

She looked back at the map. "They're still on the edges of the wards. It ought to take them a while to get through."

"Let's not count on it," Harry said. "I've seen enough of Voldemort to know the laws of magic don't always apply to him. Ok, we're going to do the same as Neville. Hermione, you go up to Ravenclaw Tower. It's right… here," he said, pointing to a staircase up on the fifth floor, opposite the castle as the Gryffindors. "Ron, you go to Hufflepuff, it's right down this hallway," pointing down the corridor away from them. "Ginny, I need you to go up to my room and grab all my stuff. Just throw it into my trunk. You know the password, right?" Ginny nodded. "For you two," Harry went on, to Ron and Hermione, "tell the portraits what's going on. If the don't let you in, use your Patronuses to go inside and fetch someone. Everyone got it? Move as fast as you can, and seal up any secret passages from this side if you pass them. And then meet back here."

"And where are you going?" Ginny asked.

"Down to the Slytherins."

His friends looked at him like he'd grown an extra head. "You're kidding, right mate?" Ron asked, bemused. "Why not just let them wait to join their friends?"

"Look, there's some in there that aren't bad," Harry said. "Or I hope so. Either way, I've got at least one friend in there. So it's worth going."

"If you say so. Just watch your back," Ron said, clearly not agreeing with him. "Let's be off then."

Hermione handed the map back to Harry and drew her wand. "Thanks," Harry said. "Good luck. And hurry back."

With that, his friends split up, dashing in three different directions. Harry didn't linger either, turning to the doorway behind the stairs opposite the one Ron just went through. He had been to the Slytherin dormitory once before, and never had any intention of going back. It was about as far from Gryffindor Tower as could be. Deep underneath the lake, it was dank and closed-off. Just the kind of place you would expect to find a snake living in.

Jogging quickly, he reached the stone entrance soon enough. As soon as Harry arrived, he discovered something he had forgotten. There was no portrait guarding the entrance. You simply need to say the password aloud to get inside. Harry looked down at the map to make sure he was in the right spot. He located the tiny dot labeled _Harry Potter_, and found it right outside the door to the Slytherin common room.

As he started to take his eyes away from the map and figure out how to get in, something else appeared beside his name. It was something he had seen before. A small circle etched out, and then a word inside it, as if the tiny _Harry Potter_ was saying something. Harry moved closer to the map so he could read it.

"Machiavelli?" Harry read aloud. "That's weird." It was such an odd word, so out of place on the map. But just as Harry squinted his eyes to make sure he read it correctly, there was a soft hiss, and the stone wall slid back, revealing the entrance.

Harry paused for a moment as he let the realisation hit him. The Marauder's Map had apparently know the password of this dormitory, and probably all the dormitories. And it stood to reason that it knew how to get into any other place in the castle, be it password, unlocking spells, or any other various enchantments. The value of his map just went up dramatically. "Dad sure knew what he was doing," he muttered to himself.

He didn't have much time to dwell on that though. With the door open, he folded the map, slipped it into his robes, and entered the hallway, preparing himself for the warm welcome he was about to get.

It happened almost immediately. As soon as he reached the end of the corridor and stepped into the common room, he was met with an explosion of noise. The others seemed to recognise him at once, and dozens of shouts and insults were thrown his way. On top of that, a couple spells were also thrown, but, in a flash, Harry whipped out his wand and parried them into the ceiling.

One of them was apparently cast by Pansy Parkinson. She stood across from him with her wand out and aimed at him. "What the bloody hell are you doing in here, Potter?!" she demanded, her face contorted in fury.

Harry lowered his wand and said, "Not looking for a fight."

"Well you're about to get one if you don't leave," Goyle shouted before Harry could go on. Goyle picked his hulking form out of his armchair and withdrew his wand from his robes.

"I'll leave as soon as I say what I came to," Harry said calmly, making sure he didn't move his wand hand an inch. "Voldemort and his Death Eaters are attacking the castle as we speak." There were a few gasps, but many of the students didn't seem fazed.

"If the Dark Lord is here, it's to get you Potter," another Slytherin called out, though Harry didn't recognise him.

"He's here to get _Hogwarts_," Harry shot back. "Look, I doubt he's planning on taking prisoners. I already know where a lot of you stand, but for those of you that don't want to be around when Voldemort gets here, you can still leave. Use the fireplace to Floo to the Ministry."

From Harry's right, he heard a soft voice say, "No one here wants your help, Potter. Nor did they ask for it." Harry looked over to see Theodore Nott sitting there. He wasn't looking at Harry, but straight ahead.

"Well, they can decide for themselves," Harry said, to Nott but loud enough for everyone to hear. "I know there are some of you that are tired of the reputation your house has. Here's a chance to try and change that."

No one replied at first, and eventually Pansy said, "That was a stirring speech Potter, but I suggest you leave now. Otherwise, we'll start using spells that you can't just cast aside."

That was about what Harry expected from them, but he still hoped there were some that took his words seriously. "I'll go then. Just don't say no one warned you." Harry spun around and headed for the door, ignoring the insults being thrown at him again, but staying on guard in case any more spells came his way.

Harry sighed as he stepped through the stone wall that was the entrance. No one in the room seemed to either believe him or take his advice. He knew that not all the Slytherins were future Death Eaters, but it certainly seemed that way. Perhaps fear of persecution is what kept those few 'good' ones quiet. And maybe that fear is what kept Harry from even realising that not all Slytherins were like Malfoy was.

As soon as Harry stepped back into the corridor, he heard a voice calling his name from back behind him. He stopped, and waited until he saw Chelsea come out and say, "Harry, wait up." She looked slightly disheveled and frightened, but managed a weak smile. "So it's true then?"

Harry nodded.

"You know, I've never questioned your bravery," Chelsea said, "but I think you convinced a couple of my friends, coming in like that."

Harry allowed himself a smirk. "That's good, make sure they go with you when you leave."

Chelsea's face fell a little. "But, I want to come with you," she said. "You're staying to fight, aren't you?"

"Not this time," Harry told her. "I'm leaving too, as soon as I help everyone get out."

"Well then let me help you," Chelsea tried again. "It'll be easier if you have more people working."

Harry shook his head. "Sorry Chelsea, but you need to go. Look, your classmates need your help too. You know all the ones that will want to go right?"

"Yes."

"Then get them out of here," Harry told her. "I'm sure Pansy and the others aren't going to make it easy. Help them stand up for themselves. That's how I need you to help me." It took a moment, but the Slytherin girl conceded. "Listen, as soon as you get to the Ministry and your safe, come to my house. It's at Number 12, Grimmauld Place, in London. You'll be much safer there."

"All right Harry," Chelsea said, looking determined now. "You can count on me."

"I know. Now hurry," Harry told her.

She did just that, turning and hurrying back into the corridor that led to her common room. Harry didn't linger or watch after her. He had wasted too much time already and needed to get back to the Entrance Hall and meet up with his friends. Harry sprinted back down the corridor.

Halfway down, he pulled the Marauder's Map back out to check on things. As soon as he looked at it, his stomach sank. On the edge of the map, the black dots around the front gates had moved over the line that indicated the castle's boundaries. Apparently they had already broken through the wards. Sure enough, rows of black were starting to trickle down the many passages into Hogwarts. It seemed Voldemort was much more powerful, or determined, than Harry figured. Or maybe both.

Inside the castle, Harry saw that Ron was still in the Hufflepuff common room. Hermione and Ginny were both already making their way back down to the Entrance Hall. _We may just make it out of this yet,_ he thought to himself.

He allowed his pace to slow a bit while he checked over the map further. Death Eaters were slowly moving across the grounds, spreading out as they crept toward the castle. A couple more went off towards the lake.

A larger group of movement caught his eye and his gaze shifted over to see no less than a dozen Death Eaters heading in a different direction than the castle or the lake. Harry's heart stopped when he saw they were on a line right for Hagrid's hut.

Harry's pace quickened. He had to help his friend. Hagrid wouldn't have any way of knowing what was happening, or any warning. He needed to find away to get down there. Even without a wand, Hagrid was a formidable opponent, as he demonstrated against Umbridge and her thugs. But the Death Eaters wouldn't necessarily be trying to Stun him. They could just as easily kill him.

Harry reached the Entrance Hall, but none of his friends had made it back yet. If Ginny was here with his things, he could use his Invisibility Cloak to slip past the advancing enemies and get to Hagrid's. Or even his Firebolt. But for now, he couldn't do anything.

For some reason, he couldn't look away from the map, and saw as the Death Eaters had surrounded Hagrid's hut. He saw as Hagrid exited the building, and was quickly swarmed by the group. A couple of the dots jumped back a couple centimeters, meaning they had just flown back several yards.

Harry was just about to think that maybe he didn't need to help after all, when Hagrid's dot disappeared from the map. He quickly looked around the group for Hagrid's name, but couldn't find it. Spreading his search outward, he checked all the names in the vicinity.

Still not finding it, he looked back to the original group, back in Hagrid's cabin, even in the Forbidden Forest. _The map must be _wrong, Harry tried to think.

But his mind wouldn't let him, reminding him immediately that the map never lies. He knew that all too well by now. Harry refused to listen to the voice in his head telling him he was looking right at Hagrid's name when it vanished. He couldn't be gone, he just couldn't.

Hagrid was Harry's first real friend, and his first link to the Wizarding world. He was the one who saved Harry from the Dursleys and brought him back to where he belonged. Just like Sirius, he would always do whatever he could to help Harry, or protect him. He was one of the bravest and most loyal men Harry knew. And what did he get for it? Being struck down outside his home was no reward for someone like Hagrid. Harry didn't believe it. So he kept looking.

The only problem was, the more he wished it wasn't true, the more he realised it was. He felt an ache in his chest, a strange emptiness. Only it wasn't strange. He'd felt it before, several times. That feeling that a part of him had vanished, and could never come back.

Harry didn't know how long he had been standing there, but it was Ginny's voice that brought him back to the present. "What's wrong, Harry?" her voice sounded faint and far away.

Harry looked up to see her standing right beside him, slightly winded. He looked back at the map. "It's… Hagrid," he started, but paused. He didn't want to say it. He tried, but couldn't make the words come out. "He's… I mean, I can't find him."

Ginny frowned. "You mean he's not in his hut?" She leaned over the map and looked for herself. "Hmm… maybe he's off in the forest. That'd be good; he could just wait it out and sneak off when it's safe."

"Yeah," Harry muttered, not knowing what else to say.

"Don't worry about him, Harry. He can take care of himself. Let's just focus on getting ourselves out."

"If we can even do that," Harry said darkly.

Ginny sensed something was wrong and reached out to grab Harry's hand. "I'm sorry about earlier. You were right, it'd be stupid to stay and fight. I mean, over the past year, you've learned to start looking at the big picture. And we have to trust that, right?"

Harry knew Ginny was right; there would be a time to grieve, but at the moment, he needed to make sure they survived. He wanted to tell Ginny how she always knew the right things to say, or how important a friend she was. But he couldn't find the right words. He was saved from it, though, by approaching footsteps on the nearby staircase.

They both looked over to see Hermione hustling down to meet them. Her cheeks were red and her forehead was glistening slightly. "How'd it go?" Harry asked when she was near enough.

"Well," was her reply. "Luna helped me out, and we got everyone rounded up. A couple of the DA members wanted to stay and fight, but I made sure they knew not even you were staying."

As soon as she finished, the door right of the stairs opened and Ron appeared. "All taken care of," he called out as soon as he saw the other three. He hurried over, happy to see everyone had finished their respective assignments. "So how'd it go with the Slytherins?" he asked.

"About as well as you'd expect," Harry answered."

"Oh, Harry," Ginny spoke up, "here's your trunk." She pulled a snitch-sized object out of her pocket and tossed it to Harry, who caught it easily.

"So what's the plan now?" Ron asked. "How are we getting out of here?"

Harry hadn't thought that far ahead yet. "We can't go on the grounds, they've already gotten through the gate," he told them.

"There's a Floo in the sorting chamber," Ginny said, pointing to the door opposite the entrance to the Great Hall.

"Yeah, but it's not connected," Harry said. "Any chance we can get back in one of the dormitories?"

"No way, mate," Ron answered. "I told the Hufflepuff portrait what was going on, and she locked the door and left her frame. Nobody's getting in there."

Harry cursed under his breath. He brought the map up to look and see how much time they had before Death Eaters made it to the front doors. He saw they weren't far, which wasn't good. The doors themselves were sturdy enough to slow anyone down, but they wouldn't hold forever. But he also saw something that may have been the bit of luck they needed.

"No one's coming down the one-eyed witch passageway," he told them, running his finger along the path that lead away from the castle. "Either they couldn't get into Honeydukes, or Wormtail forgot about it. But I think it's our best bet. We just need to get beyond the Anti-Apparation wards."

Hermione leaned over to see the map too, and wasn't as certain. "I don't know Harry. The map doesn't go all the way to Hogsmeade. They could be hiding just on the other side of the border."

"We're gonna have to risk it," he said, stashing the map back in his pocket with his trunk. "Come on, let's move."

With that, the four hurried up the stairs. And just when he made it to the top and started to feel like everything would work out, Harry heard a massive crash behind him. The hairs on the back of his neck stood straight up, and Harry already knew who had just entered the castle.

He slowly turned to see Lord Voldemort standing below them.

Even though he was hooded and cloaked, Harry couldn't mistake those glowing red eyes. Or the prickling sensation on his forehead. Beside him, he heard Hermione gasp and Ron curse. Ginny started to shake and backed up a couple steps.

"Where are you running off to, Harry?" Voldemort spoke normally, but his voice carried clearly up to Harry, sending a shiver down his spine. He took a couple of steps into the Entrance Hall and lowered his hood to reveal his ghostly face. "I was hoping you would stay for a while."

Hermione grabbed Harry's arm tightly and said, "W-we should go. Now."

"We can't," Harry said. As he spoke those words, his insides turned completely to ice. He knew they couldn't get out now. "It's too late. There's no way we can get away from him."

Ron began trembling on Harry's other side. "But there's no way we can beat him, Harry."

Harry knew that was right to. He felt himself start to slip, to give into his fear and lose his calm. But he caught himself. He called on all his work with the DA and his Occlumency training to keep himself together. Harry knew if his friends saw him start to freak out, it would do the same to them.

But he supposed that didn't matter. He slowly drew his wand. "Listen, I think… I think—" he started to say, but he was cut off.

"We're not leaving you Harry," said Ron, his voice quavering slightly. Harry looked over to his friend, who simply nodded.

Harry knew Ron was scared, but was still willing to stand beside him. He looked over to Hermione, who said, "I'm with you." Behind him, Ginny didn't say anything, but Harry could see a tear sliding down her cheek.

"Look, if we all keep our heads and fight him together, we have a chance," Harry told them evenly, hoping to boost their confidence. He knew it wasn't true, but if this was to be the end, he was going to make sure he went down fighting.

Harry's thought were interrupted by Voldemort's cold, high voice. "I was hoping it would come to this. I've waited far too long to destroy you."

Harry spun back around. "Don't get ahead of yourself. I've beaten you before, and I can do it again," he said, gritting his teeth.

"But who will come to your aid this time?" Voldemort shot back, baring his own teeth in a horrible smile. "Who has rallied around you, other than your pathetic friends? You have no hope of defeating me on your own, Harry. Before the night is up, you will lay dead at my feet."

"We'll see." Harry was about to take a step forward when he felt a hand grab his arm.

"Harry, wait," Ginny said from beside him. "You can't do this. You have to leave."

Harry turned to see she looked upset and scared. "Ginny, I know it's not a great situation, but there's no other alternative. There's no way we can get past him."

"No, we can't," replied Ginny. "But _you_ can. Ron, Hermione, you know we have to get Harry away. One of us needs to stay behind and buy some time."

"Ginny, what are you—" Harry started but was cut off.

"She's right," Hermione spoke up, a look of horror on her face. "God, she right. One of us has to stay."

"Come on, there has to be another way," Ron whispered, still eyeing Voldemort fearfully.

"There isn't Ron," Ginny told him. "If we don't get Harry away, we'll all die, you remember that. Someone has to stay. And I think it should be me."

Ron and Hermione both voiced their protests, as did Harry, though he didn't have the slightest clue what the other three seemed to know. "Look, I don't know what's going on here, but no one is going to stay here and die so I can run away," Harry told them. "Either we're all getting out, or none of us are."

"Sorry Harry," Ginny told him, the faintest of smiles on her face, "but it's out of your hands. Ron, Hermione, you two are more important to Harry, and to our cause. That makes me the odd one out. Now get out of here before it's too late."

"Ginny, we can't," Ron said. "We can't leave you. I won't" He looked even more scared of this prospect than of facing Voldemort.

"You have to, Ron," Ginny told him. "Don't argue with me, just get out of here. I don't know how much time you have."

"Ron… Ron, she's right," Hermione said. "We… I don't like this any more than you, but she's right. One of us has to stay. We have to get Harry away."

Harry felt like he was losing his mind. "Are you three insane?" he exclaimed. "Will someone tell me what's going on?"

"Not yet Harry, we have to go," said Hermione, grabbing his arm and leading him toward the door.

A chill swept through the room, blowing the doors in front of them closed. "Not leaving are you, Harry?" Voldemort's cold voice rang throughout the room. "You're beginning to try my patience. Now come down here and face me like a man."

"I'm not afraid to fight you," Harry shot back. "Hermione, let _go_ of me."

"Harry, don't," Ginny told him. She walked over to where he stood, her eyes shining and several tears streaking down her face. "Please, just trust me. I'm sorry it came to this. But you have to go."

Harry stared into her bright brown eyes, and saw she was telling the truth. "Ginny… I—"

Before he could go on, Ginny turned to Ron and said, "Ron… you've always been a good brother and looked out for me. Make sure Mom and everyone know why I had to do this."

Ron nodded his head once. "I love you, Gin," he said weakly, and didn't look like he could get out anymore words. Ginny then turned to Hermione, and managed a weak smile. The other girl returned it, silent tears streaming from her eyes.

With that, Ginny wiped her face with her sleeve, drew her wand, and began descending the stairs. Harry couldn't bear to watch her go, and turned back to the door.

"What's this, Harry? Sending a girl to do your fighting for you?" Voldemort called out from below them. "Surely you aren't such a coward."

Before Harry could respond again, Ginny spoke up. "You're fight's with me now, Tom Riddle," she said, her steely voice enough to give even Harry chills.

"Foolish girl!" Voldemort spat out. "How dare you?" They could all feel Voldemort's rage filling the room. "Very well, if you're so eager to die, then you can be first. But rest assured Harry, once I destroy your friend, I will come for you. Don't think you can escape me. I've waited too long for this!"

Harry was saved from having to endure any more when Hermione grabbed his arm. "Come on, Ron, let's go," she said, before pushing the door back open and dragging Harry through. "We need to get up to that passageway as quickly as we can." Upon seeing that Ron was hesitating as well, Hermione grabbed him too, and led both boys out of the room and down the hallway.

Harry wrenched his arm away from her and stopped after several yards. "You want to tell me what the hell is going on now?" he demanded. "How can we just leave Ginny? What is happening that I don't know about?"

"Not now, Harry, first we have to get out," Hermione said, trying to continue pulling him along. "Ron, come on," she added when she saw Ron had stopped as well. "You know we had to do this, and you know what the alternative is. We both knew something like this could happen."

Ron was set to argue, but didn't get a chance when there was a bright flash behind them. A split-second later, the hallway exploded a few feet above their heads, showering them with rocks and dust. Harry turned to see two figures in white masks running towards them from the opposite end of the corridor.

"How did they get in here already?" Ron shouted as another curse blasted the floor between the two groups.

"Doesn't matter now, come on," Harry answered, pushing his friends in front of him as they started dashing down the hallway. Harry pulled out his wand and threw a spell behind him. A bright red magical barrier appeared right in front of their assailants, who smacked into it before they could stop. It only bought them a few seconds before one of the Death Eaters vanished it, but it was enough for them to make it to the stairs and out of harm's way.

At the top of the stairs, Harry and Hermione cast half a dozen more charms to slow down and block the pursuing Death Eaters. By the time they finished, Ron was at the one-eyed witch's statue and had the hump open.

"Come on, hurry," he urged, before climbing into the secret passage. Once he had gotten his whole body in, Harry and Hermione had reached him. Harry helped her up into the statue. She was still lowering herself in when a cannon blast sounded down the hall. Harry looked over to see chunks of stone fly across the hallway and the two Death Eaters clamber out of the staircase.

Harry lifted himself up to climb in to the one-eyed witch, but in the process, was hit by a very well-placed spell. He was thrown back to the ground, which he hit extremely hard, causing his wand to fly out of his hand.

In an act of desperation, Harry tried grabbing for his wand while bouncing up off the floor, not realising it was already several yards away. Nevertheless, the wand flew to his outstretched hand as if summoned.

Harry didn't have time to ponder this though. He picked himself off the hard stone, ignoring the searing pain on the back of his head and the bleeding scrape on his elbow. Before the Death Eaters could cast again, Harry flicked his wand in their direction, sending a shockwave down the hall. Both figures were lifted off their feet and thrown back.

"Harry, let's go!" Ron bid him from inside the passage. He didn't need any more invitation than that, running over to the statue and quickly climbing in. He sealed it back up behind himself, praying they two Death Eaters didn't know how to open it again.

"Let's move," he told them, setting off down the tunnel as quickly as he could in the confined space. Once the ground leveled off, it was much easier to move swiftly, and it didn't take them long to near where the wards ended.

"We should be close now," Hermione whispered. "Harry, check the map."

Harry obliged, taking out the Marauder's Map and lighting his wand tip. He checked their progress and found their three dots to be very close to the edge of the picture. Unfortunately, Harry's carelessness was punished.

Several voices up ahead of them shouted out as soon as Harry's wand lit up. "Hey, there's people in the tunnel," and, "Stop right there," were the two he heard before he put out the light and started running forward again. He could hear Ron and Hermione right behind him on either side. Harry couldn't make out anyone in front of him, but he knew they were there. And it was only a matter of time before spells started coming their way. They just needed to make it a little further.

It was only a couple more steps when Harry heard another voice call out, "Stop them!" and he felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He knew they were there, and he quickly stopped. "Grab on to me," he said to his friends, and as soon as he felt two hands clutching his arms, he Disapparated, just in time to escape two incoming jets of light.

And as quickly as they had left, the trio appeared at Grimmauld Place, landing hard in the sitting room and falling to the floor. No one tried to get up at first, instead catching their breaths.

After several minutes, Harry gingerly picked himself up, and then helped Hermione to her feet. As his adrenaline levels started to fall, all his other emotions started to catch up with him. It didn't take long for Harry to start filling with anger over what had just happened. They had to leave Ginny, for no apparent reason. Or if there was one, no one could tell him why. One of his best friends, alone with Voldemort, and he had no idea what was going on. He felt a sharp pain in his heart at the thought of Ginny, which only contributed to his anger.

"Would you care to tell me what happened back there"" Harry asked, as evenly as he could, but he felt himself slipping. "Can someone tell me why we had to leave Ginny behind?"

Neither of his friends answered. Ron was just getting himself off the floor, and Hermione was leaning against a nearby bookcase. Her breathing had slowed and the gravity of the situation was hitting her. Harry could see on her face she was on the verge of tears. That just made Harry angrier. She should have been furious for leaving Ginny behind; not mourning like it was just something they had to accept.

"Sorry, Harry, but we had no choice," she said softly, not looking up from the floor.

This response didn't help Harry at all. In fact, it pushed him over the edge. "Y-you… you had no choice?" he asked incredulously, the pounding in his ears growing louder with each second. "How can you say that?!" He felt the room tremble slightly, and behind him, a portrait was shaken off the wall and fell to the floor.

He turned to Ron, who was just standing there, looking dazed. "You just left your sister to fight Voldemort on her own! Don't you realise that? Your own sister!" Harry was shouting now, but he didn't care. He couldn't hold back.

Ron, however, simply looked up at him. He looked like he was unable to comprehend the situation, but Harry could see he was upset. He opened his mouth several times in an attempt to say something, but no words came out. In the end, he merely shook his head, turned around, and headed slowly out of the room.

"Where are you going?" Harry demanded, but Ron had already left. This did nothing to calm Harry. "To hell with you, then!" he shouted, grabbing a lamp from the end table near him and hurling it against the wall. The glass shattered with a loud crash. Hermione gasped behind him, but all Harry could focus on was the rage burning inside him.

"His own sister—" he went on, grabbing a glass dish from the same table, "—my friend—" he threw the dish with all he could against the same wall, "—will anyone tell me—" it broke into several pieces and clattered to the floor, "—why she had to… to…" He couldn't finish. He screamed in fury and kicked the table into the nearby wall, breaking one of its legs.

Hermione was sobbing now. "Harry, please stop," she pleaded. He looked over at her again. Tears were pouring from her eyes, and she did nothing to stem them. "Please don't. We had no choice but to leave." It was the same thing she had said earlier, and Harry was about to lose it again, but she went on.

"We made an Unbreakable Vow to protect you. From V-Voldemort."

This completely halted Harry. "You…you what?"

"Months ago," she went on. "Luna and Neville too. We knew you were going to fight Voldemort when you found all the Horcruxes. And we knew how important you are. Not just to us, but to everyone." Harry turned completely to face her. She was shaking slightly and wringing her hands. "So we made a Vow to do whatever we had to, to protect you from him until you were ready. Even if it meant one of us sacrificing ourselves. If Ginny hadn't let us escape, the Vow would have killed all three of us."

Harry was shocked. He didn't know what to say. He didn't even know what to feel. His mind was reeling as he tried to understand what Hermione had just said.

"That's why she had to stay," Hermione said softly. "That's how important you are to us. I would have stayed behind if it were up to me. We all would have."

The more Harry thought, the more emotions welled up inside him. He wanted to rage at Hermione, and Ron, for being so foolish, no matter how heroic it was. He wanted to be furious at himself for once again bringing his friends into the dangers of his life, and getting one of them killed. The corners of his eyes started to sting, and he looked to the floor. He wanted to destroy more things, to cry, to scream or punch something. He wanted out of his life, to get away from all the death and despair and grief. He wanted to be somebody else. Harry felt tears flowing down his face, but he didn't care. It was all too much.

"Why… Why do my friends keep dying for me?" he whispered, not trusting his voice to keep from breaking. "Will I even have anyone left when it's over?"

He looked back up at Hermione. He could see everything he was thinking and everything he felt mirrored in her shining brown eyes. The sorrow, the grief, the longing for some kind of relief.

"Harry, I…" she started, but instead of going on, walked over to where Harry was standing. Harry could see each of her tears, and the tracks the previous ones had made. She leaned forward to hug him, at the same time he did the same. They both paused, their faces inches from each other's.

Harry wasn't quite sure how it happened, but the next moment, their lips were touching. Gently at first, but Harry pulled Hermione closer to him and kissed her firmly. He could feel a different wetness on his cheek as their tears mingled. Harry's eyes were closed tight, focusing only on Hermione lips and the warmth of her body, and nothing else. Before he knew it, he was in a different world, and all his anger, his heartache, everything was ebbing away. Everything was a blur at the moment, but somehow, the pair ended up on the nearby couch. Harry didn't care though. He cupped Hermione's cheek in his hand, wiping tears away with his thumb.

Time had stopped completely, and for this first time in Harry's memory, he was entirely at peace.

.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.

A/N – Well, things are starting to get interesting. Hopefully that means I can write more often. I'm kind of rushing posting this, so let me know if I screw up. I do like being notified of my mistakes. I feel kind of bad because I get reviews or questions and I intend to respond with thanks or answers, but I never get around to it. I'll try to be better about that in the future.


	21. The Last Horcrux

**Chapter 21**

**The Last Horcrux**

It was still dark outside when Harry was awakened.

He snapped out of his light sleep as soon as he felt a hand on his shoulder, and didn't need the familiar voice's bidding of, "Harry, wake up."

Harry couldn't see much when he opened his eyes, but after he brushed strands of bushy hair off his face, the heart-shaped visage hovering over him was easily recognisable. "Tonks?"

"Yeah, it's me," the spiky-haired woman whispered.

It wasn't until Harry tried to pick himself up that he felt something heavy holding him back. It took a few moments for his eyes to adjust, but he soon realised it was Hermione, still pressed up against him as they both lay on the couch. She was still sleeping peacefully and Harry didn't want to disturb that unless it was necessary. He looked back and forth between her body and Tonks, wordlessly asking the latter for some help.

Catching on, Tonks took out her wand and flicked it lightly at Harry. He felt himself slowly lift up off the couch before Tonks swung him over towards her. Once clear, Harry righted himself in midair and Tonks lowered him down to the floor.

After checking to make sure Hermione wasn't disturbed, Harry turned to Tonks and asked, "So what's going on?"

"Everyone's downstairs in the kitchen," she told him. "They asked me to come check and see if you were here."

"Oh… well then I guess we should wake her," Harry said, nodding to Hermione. _All that for _nothing. He walked over and kneeled down beside her, shaking her lightly. "Hermione?"

Just as quickly as Harry had, Hermione came to, her eyes fluttering open. "Harry? What is it?" she asked weakly.

"Sorry to wake you, but we're needed down stairs," Harry told her.

Hermione took a minute to wake herself up completely, before swinging her legs over the side of the couch and sitting up. Rubbing her eyes, she asked, "What time is it?"

Harry didn't know either, but Tonks answered, "A little after three."

"Who all is down there?" Harry asked her after helping Hermione to her feet.

"Just about all of the Order. And some of the Hogwarts staff that came with McGonagall," Tonks told them. "We're still expecting several others." She led them out into the hall.

"Ron isn't down there, is he?" Hermione asked.

"Didn't see him," was Tonks' reply. "I figured he'd be up here with you."

"He made it back with us, but wandered off," Harry told her. "He might have left the house. Would you mind checking the other rooms really quickly while we go down there?"

"No problem," Tonks said, and headed off down the hallway.

Harry watched her go, and then looked back at Hermione. Their eyes met briefly, before Harry looked away. He wasn't sure what, if anything, he should say. Instead of worrying about it, he started down the hall towards the stairs, beckoning her to follow. They walked silently down two flights until they reached the kitchen door.

Harry pushed it open to reveal a fairly crowded room of rather disheveled-looking people. All the eyes moved to him when he entered, and there were several looks of surprise and sighs of relief.

Remus had been pacing nervously beside the table, but was immediately comforted when he saw Harry. He strode over and hugged Harry tightly, and Harry returned it. "Thank Merlin you're safe. Are you all right?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Harry said reassuringly.

"Mr. Potter, Miss Granger, it's good to see both of you," McGonagall said from the head of the table. "Please, come sit down. Where is Mr. Weasley?"

Harry and Hermione followed Remus to the table and sat beside him. "We're not sure where Ron is," Harry answered once he was settled. "Tonks is still upstairs looking for him."

"Well, surely he's around here somewhere. I must thank you for your swift actions earlier," McGonagall told him. "Your Patronus woke me before I was even alerted to the attackers. I believe that extra time was enough for me to round up the staff. The portraits informed me that you took care of all the students."

"Yeah, we went to the dormitories and had everyone Floo to the Ministry," Harry explained. "Though most of the Slytherins didn't seem to mind what was happening."

"Why would they," the growling voice of Mad-Eye Moody spoke up from the far corner of the room. "They'd just as soon wait for their comrades." Several others agreed.

Harry took the opportunity to look around and see who exactly was in the room. With him at the kitchen table sat Flitwick, Sprout, Elphias Doge, and Slughorn. Along the back wall was another group of Dedalus Diggle, Mungdungus, Madame Pomfrey, Professor Lancaster, and Sturgis Podmore.

"Alastor, please," McGonagall stopped him. "That does us no good. You and I both know there are plenty students in that house worth saving. And though I hate to admit it, being a supporter of You-Know-Who isn't enough to save you. He may just as easily have killed them all." She looked ill at the notion.

"He probably won't," Harry spoke up. Again, all eyes turned to Harry. "Well, it's why he wanted Hogwarts. There's more power there than anywhere else. I mean, what could be more important than teaching the wizards and witches of the future? Having them learn what you want them to, and molding them into your own image."

"A valid point, Harry," Lancaster said, "but I can think of quite a few who won't go along. I know my Gryffindors won't sit back and accept that."

A silence hung over those words. No one spoke for several minutes, to the group or each other. In that time, Tonks entered the room and sat down quietly, which was unusual for her even in the most somber of times. She looked over at Harry and shook her head, indicating she hadn't found Ron.

Harry decided to break the silence. "So what's the next move?"

McGonagall didn't answer at first. "We're… not sure," she eventually said. "The rest of the staff is at their homes checking on their families, but other than that, this is all we have at the moment. We haven't heard from many of our friends yet, and it's been several hours. We need to know the extent of the damage before we can plan anything."

Just then, Harry heard the front door open on the floor above them. Everyone in the room immediately took out their wands. There was an agonising moment of silence before the door slammed shut. Tonks was closest to the door, so she got out of her chair and crept over to the stairs. Above them, they heard heavy footsteps moving slowly.

And then: "Hello?" a deep voice called out. "Anyone home?"

Tonks' face brightened. "It's Kingsley," she told them, and rushed up the stairs to meet her colleague. A second later, they were both coming down the stairs slowly. "Madame Pomfrey, he needs help," Tonks called out.

The Healer was on her feet in a flash, rushing over to meet the pair as the got to the bottom of the stairs. Tonks was right, Kingsley looked hurt. His robes were ripped and burned in several places, and he was sporting a large gash on the side of his head. It wasn't bleeding, but had been recently.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," Kingsley tried to exclaim as the two women sat him down at the table. The wound on his head looked to have been very hastily healed, and not very well. Madame Pomfrey set about fixing it, while Kingsley tried to shoo her away.

"Kingsley, please, let her help you," McGonagall told him. "Now, what happened?"

"Sorry Minerva, I only just got away from the office," he told her. "There was another attack. They caught us completely by surprise."

"Where? Not at the Ministry?"

"Afraid so," Kingsley said. "Death Eaters stormed in, wands firing. It was after hours, hardly any of us there. We were completely outnumbered. We put up a good defence and held them in the atrium for a while, but we couldn't keep it up. We had to run."

Harry felt his heart sink. Death Eaters had attacked the exact spot where Harry had sent all his fellow students. If they had come out of the fireplaces during the battle, they could have been struck down before they knew what hit them. He felt like he was going to be sick.

"I don't think Scrimgeour made it out," Kingsley went on. "He was down in his office. He's got plenty of tricks for an old man, but I don't think even _he _could have fought his way out of that."

"What about some Hogwarts students?" Harry interrupted him. "Did you see any students there?"

Kingsley looked over at him and frowned, as if surprised that Harry would have asked that. "Yeah… yeah, I did. Five of them, I think." It was obvious he thought Harry shouldn't have known something like that. "They Flooed in right in the middle of the battle. As soon as they saw what was going on, they sealed up all the fireplaces. Then they joined us in fighting."

Harry felt an ounce of relief. "They didn't want more people following behind them. That's where we told everyone to go, to get away from Hogwarts," he explained. "Where are they now?"

Kingsley hesitated for a moment, hanging his head slightly. "I'm afraid they were killed." McGonagall gasped from the other end of the table. "I… I got the names from Ed before we left," he went on, pulling a scrap of blood-spattered parchment from his pocket. He read, "Anthony Goldstein, Michael Coroner, Ernie Macmillan, Justin Fintch-Fletchley, and Seamus Finnegan."

Harry sank back in his chair when he heard this. More of his friends had died, and Harry at least somewhat responsible, if not completely. He may has well have walked them into the Ministry and thrown them in front of the Death Eaters. The room seemed to get colder, and everyone else's mood dropped even lower.

"They fought well," Kingsley added. "Better than a lot of the Ministry wizards. We we're just too outnumbered."

This gave Harry little comfort.

"And they saved lives too," Remus spoke up. "If they hadn't blocked the Floos, more students would be dead."

"Saved lives? For how long?" Harry asked darkly, ignoring what he had previously said about the school in the hands of Voldemort.

"He's right," Moody said. "Instead of being killed in the Ministry, they're sitting in the school, waiting to be killed."

"We don't know that yet," McGonagall told him. "Let us not make assumptions until we know exactly what's going on. Kingsley, is Arthur all right?"

Kingsley nodded. "He was with me when we left. He went home first to gather his family before coming here."

Harry could feel Hermione tense up beside him. He knew why, because it was exactly how he felt. His insides froze and everything that happened earlier was welling up in the pit of his stomach. "He doesn't know," he said, staring at the table.

Everyone looked confused. "Know what?" Remus asked. "Harry?"

Harry looked over at him, and looked back at the table. "Ginny… she…" Harry didn't think he could say any more than that, but he didn't need to.

"Ginny?" Tonks asked. "No… it can't be." She was fairly close to Ginny as well, and didn't seem to want to believe it. Harry could understand exactly how she felt. He looked at Hermione and saw that she too was on the verge of tears. Many more around the room reacted the same.

"Do you know how?" Kingsley asked. "Do you know what happened?" His usual booming voice was dull, almost lifeless.

"Yeah, I do," Harry answered, indicating he didn't want to go into any greater detail.

McGonagall sighed heavily and fell back in her seat. "This is most distressing." She was looking more distraught by the second. "Well, they will know by now… that clock of Molly's. It isn't the way they should find out." She took a deep breath, knowing there was still more they needed to find out. "Does anyone know of anymore victims?"

Everyone shook their heads, except for Harry. "Yeah, there was one more." He could see in his peripheral vision Hermione's head turn to him, but he continued looked forward. He hadn't told anyone what he had seen on the map, partly because he didn't want to believe it, and partly because he knew it was true but he didn't want to think about it. "Hagrid."

All around the room there were gasps and cries of disbelief. Hagrid had been the toughest wizard anyone knew, and there had always been a sense that he would be around forever. Just like how people felt about Dumbledore. For Hagrid to be killed in battle was unimaginable.

"Are you sure?" Flitwick asked, his voice even higher than normal.

Harry nodded. "I saw it. On my map. They went for him first, with a dozen Death Eaters." He could feel a lump in his throat growing every second, and he didn't trust himself to speak anymore. He felt Remus set a hand on his shoulder.

"The cowards!" Slughorn cried out, banging his fist on the table. "Disgraces to my house! I taught half of them, how could they turn into this?"

Instead of stopping him, McGonagall waited for Slughorn to calm down, before continuing. "Kingsley, can you take a guess as to the state of the Ministry of Magic right now?"

"Not good, Minerva," he said. "There were dozens of casualties tonight, Scrimgeour possibly being one of them. And if he is alive, he's certainly been deposed. A large number of Aurors is abroad, and we have no way of recalling them at the moment. All our evidence showed You-Know-Who wasn't on the island."

"As I'm sure he wanted us to think," McGonagall said.

"Clearly," Kingsley agreed. "And for all we know, there could have been even more attacks all over the country. The only force we have capable of putting up a fight at the moment is in the room, along with the Weasley clan. If that's the case, we'd be outnumbered several times over. The situation's pretty bad, Minerva. Even if Dumbledore was still with us, it would still be bad."

"There has to be something we can do. I can't just sit here while my students are in You-Know-Who's hands!" the old Headmistress exclaimed.

"I feel the same way," said Kingsley, "but even if we all attacked him, we'd just end up as more victims."

McGonagall shook her head in frustration. "I'm sure, then, that that is not the best course of action. We need to find out as much as we can and rally as many of our own before doing anything." Then she turned an addressed Harry. "Harry, though this was once the Order Headquarters, we're all here on your invitation. I must ask if we are welcome to stay the night."

Harry was a little surprised. "Yeah… yeah, of course. There's plenty of room for everyone. And your families, if you want to bring them. You can stay as long as you need to."

"Thank you, Harry. For this, and the foresight to give out the secret of this house in case something like this happened," McGonagall told him. "If it wasn't for that, we'd be even worse off than we already are. But, it's late. I suggest everyone go upstairs and try to get some sleep. We can set to work in the morning gathering information and putting together a strategy."

For the first time since Harry entered the room, Mungdungus spoke up. "What's the point? Ministry's gone, Hogwarts 's gone… who knows how many's dead? We've nothin' left… 's all gone."

Harry picked his head up in outrage when he looked around the room at the downtrodden faces, and saw that a few were actually agreeing with what Mungdungus said. He knew things were bad, but not so much so that they should give up.

Harry was about to tell him off, but something happened before he could. Everyone was understandably on edge already, and even more so when, out of nowhere, there was a great flash of light and a loud crack high above them. Harry's head snapped up to the ceiling in time to see a small burst of flames disappear.

The next moment, all that was left was a single feather, bright red and orange, floating slowly down. All eyes in the room followed it, back and forth, as it gently descended to the table. It landed without a sound, and everyone continued looking at it silently.

Eventually, Harry reached forward and grabbed the quill of the beautiful feather with his thumb and forefinger. He felt a strange, subtle warmth flow through him as soon as he touched it, and he knew exactly why.

"What is it?" Flitwick asked cautiously. "A message?"

"No, a reminder. There's one thing we still have left," Harry told them, looking at the feather. "Hope."

.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.

The meeting had been broken for fifteen minutes, but Harry stayed sitting at the kitchen table.

McGonagall and Kingsley were the only others that remained. They were seated at the other end with several dozen pieces of parchment spread out, talking hurriedly. Harry wasn't trying to eavesdrop, but he did pick up bits and pieces of their conversation. Apparently they were trying to figure out all there resources and listing friends or acquaintances who they knew they could count on.

Harry had his own reasons for staying, and neither of the two Order members minded him being around. He wanted to wait up and make sure the rest of the Weasleys arrived. That, and the fact the Ron still hadn't returned from wherever he went. There was the possibility he had went back to the Burrow, so Harry wanted to find out.

It wasn't much longer before he heard noises upstairs. A minute later, Mr. Weasley came down the stairs, looking tired and unkempt, but unharmed. Kingsley and McGonagall both got up as soon as they saw him.

"Arthur, thank goodness you're all right," McGonagall exclaimed.

Mr. Weasley managed a small smile. "I'm fine, Minerva. A little shaken up, but fine. I've got Molly upstairs. Are we welcome to stay?"

"Yes, Mr. Potter has been gracious enough to put us up for a while," McGonagall said.

Mr. Weasley turned to Harry. "Thank you, Harry." Harry nodded in acknowledgment. "Is Ron here with you?"

"Uh… he's around here somewhere," Harry lied. He didn't want to give Mr. Weasley anything more to worry about right now.

"Where are the rest of yours, Arthur?" asked Kingsley.

"They should be here soon," the red-haired man answered. "Bill went home to get Fleur, and Charlie went to Fred and George's flat." Harry could see his next thought was about Ginny when his face fell momentarily. "We'd better try to get some sleep. It's been a long night."

"Of course," McGonagall said. "We'll see you in the morning."

Mr. Weasley turned to leave, but stopped at the door. "Harry, come along and help us find a room," he said. McGonagall and Kingsley had sat back down and went back to work. Reluctantly, Harry got up and followed Mr. Weasley out of the room.

Harry wasn't surprised when they stopped in the hallway before reaching the stairs. It was dimly lit, and the shadows made Mr. Weasley look even older. It took him a while to say what he wanted to, but Harry understood why.

"You were… you were with my daughter tonight?" he asked weakly. Harry nodded. "Could you tell me? Tell me what happened?"

Harry lowered his head. He wasn't keen to relive what had happened yet, but Mr. Weasley had a right to know. "We had just met back up after warning all the students." He was looking Mr. Weasley in the eyes now, but didn't know how long that would last. "Then… Voldemort showed up. We didn't have a way out. Ginny stayed behind so we could get away safely." He couldn't hold Mr. Weasley's gaze any longer, and looked away. "I didn't want to, but she made us."

Neither of them said anything for several minutes. The silence was agonising, and Harry felt he had to say something. "I'm sorry, sir… I should have been the one to stay."

"Don't say that Harry," Mr. Weasley said angrily. "My daughter gave her life to protect her best friends, don't take that away from her." He took a very deep breath, and shook his head. "I'm sorry… this is hard for me."

"I know."

"But I'm proud of my Ginny. She stood up to You-Know-Who by herself, knowing full well she wouldn't survive. It takes a lot of bravery to do something like that." Mr. Weasley could see Harry was growing upset, and said, "Don't try to blame this on yourself. Don't forget, you saved Ginny's life once before. And mine. And I don't even want to know how much Ron owes you for keeping him safe over the years. Our whole family is in your debt for everything you've done for us. So don't you dare feel responsible."

"Right." Harry felt touched by his words, giving him a tiny bit of respite in this terrible night. But he also didn't feel like he could talk about this much longer. "Listen, I need to go check on some things, so…" he trailed off, but Mr. Weasley understood what he was saying.

"Go ahead, Harry," the other man told him. "Molly and I are going to wait up for the rest of our kids."

Harry nodded, and hurried up the stairs. When he got to the ground floor, he didn't look around for Mrs. Weasley, instead hurrying up the next set of stairs. Unfortunately, he wasn't out of it yet, as he saw Remus standing outside one of the doors right near they stairs. He managed a small smile when he saw Harry.

"Tonks is just in there changing," he said, nodded to the door behind him.

"So you're staying with her?" Harry asked, and Remus nodded again. "Good… she and Ginny… they were pretty close. She's probably hurting right now."

"I'll take care of her," Remus assured him. "What about you?"

"Me? I'm fine. Hey, stuff like this happens to me all the time, so I'm used to it," Harry said with a forced laugh, but felt bad instantly.

"Harry?" Remus said, but Harry looked away from him.

"Sorry, it's just… I'm okay, really," he told Remus. "Just tired, that's all. I should really get up to my room."

Remus didn't look convinced, but didn't stop Harry. "All right then. Do try to get some sleep." With that, Harry walked over to the next staircase and up to the next floor.

When he reached the door to his room, he could hear the crackling of a fire inside. Frowning to himself, he pushed the door open and entered. Hermione was sitting there in front of the fireplace, and had been since she came back upstairs, as far as Harry knew. When Harry walked in, she turned to the door, but quickly turned back and hastily wiped her eyes.

"You okay?" he asked tentatively.

"Yeah, fine," she answered. Hermione stood up and straightened her clothes. "Sorry for sneaking in, I just wanted to… to…" She looked back at Harry, and he could see more tears welling up in his friend's eyes. "She's really gone, isn't she?" Hermione choked out.

Harry quickly strode over to her and hugged her tightly. Hermione did nothing to resist, instead pressing her head into Harry's shoulder. Harry rubbed her back in a way he hoped was soothing. "She saved our lives, you know," he said, though it was something she obviously already knew. "Let's just make sure it wasn't in vain."

After a moment, Hermione let go of Harry and collected herself. "You're right Harry," she told him. "There will be a time to grieve, but right now we have to be strong." They stood there for a few seconds, neither saying anything. Then, at the same time, they both looked at each other, realised they were still holding each other, and quickly pulled away. It was very awkward, and Harry felt he should say something.

"Listen, about earlier…" he started.

"Oh… right." Hermione knew exactly what he was talking about. "Look, we were both hurting, and we both needed comforting. And it just sort of happened."

"Exactly," Harry agreed. "It helped, of course. But it was no big deal."

"Right, " Hermione nodded. "It didn't mean anything." They both made eye contact for a split-second, but quickly looked away. Harry didn't know if he believed all that. In fact, he didn't know how to feel about what had happened between them, and Hermione seemed to think the same thing. But now wasn't the time to be worrying about something like that.

Turning around, he pulled his trunk out of his pocket and tossed it on the floor in front of his bed. With a wave of his wand, it was back to normal size. He kicked it open and rummaged around for some clothes to change into, but didn't find any. By the looks of it though, everything important was accounted for.

Harry sighed heavily and rubbed his eyes. "What's the time?" he asked Hermione.

She checked her wristwatch. "Half past four."

Harry sighed again. "I don't know how I'm going to fall asleep."

"Me neither. You wouldn't happen to have any Dreamless Sleep potion in there, would you?" Hermione asked.

"Afraid not," Harry shook his head. And then something came to him. "But I have something that might help a little." He walked over to his nightstand and opened the cabinet at the bottom. Just inside was a glass bottle of amber-coloured liquid, which he picked up.

"Harry, I've never drank before," Hermione told him, though Harry would have expected her to scold him for even having something like that in his room.

"Well, you've never come face to face with Voldemort either," he told her. "There's a first time for everything." He handed Hermione a small glass filled a third of the way up.

"Is it Firewhisky?" she asked, eyeing the glass cautiously.

"No, it's Muggle stuff. Doesn't burn going down," Harry said. "Well, not as much," he added. He sighed again, leaning back against his bed frame and looking down into his own glass. He then reached over and clinked it with Hermione's, and said softly, "Here's to Ginny."

.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.

Harry did manage to get some sleep, but not very much. He tried many times to fall back asleep, but was unsuccessful, and eventually decided to get out of bed. The clock on his nightstand said it was a little before nine.

He had been quite shocked when he woke up to find Hermione sleeping in the bed with him. He tried to think back to what happened, but it was a little hazy. He remembered having a drink or two, and remembered Hermione saying something about not wanting to be alone. But they were both fully clothed when he awoke, and sleeping on opposite ends of a very large bed, so he didn't worry about it. He decided to let her continue sleeping.

Harry made his way down to the kitchen to see who was up yet. Upon entering, he was surprised to see about a dozen people sitting around the table, eating breakfast and talking. McGonagall and Kingsley were among them, looking very weary, and Harry wondered if they had even left the room since last night.

Initially not planning on eating, Harry changed his mind when he saw how much food was prepared. Apparently Dobby had followed them back, and known how many guests Harry had, and still managed to accommodate them all. Harry would have to thank him.

"Harry, take my seat," Kingsley called to him as he stood up. "I have to be going anyway." With that, he left the room and headed back upstairs. Harry shrugged and walked over to the table where Kingsley had been previously sitting.

"Where is he off to?" Harry asked McGonagall, he was seated beside him.

"Kingsley is going out to get some more information on the state of things," the Headmistress told him. "And to check with some people to make sure we can count on them."

"You know, Minerva, I think I should go speak with Amos," Mr. Weasley said from McGonagall's other side. "I know he'd be with us, and I'm pretty sure he has friends in his department that are on our side."

McGonagall agreed. "Very well, Arthur. But be careful. If anything looks out of place, come right back. It's not worth losing you."

Mr. Weasley nodded. "Bill, I could use some help, if you want to come along," he said down the table to his eldest son.

Bill was talking with Lupin and Tonks, but apparently heard the conversation at the other end. "Sure, Dad. Let me go tell Fleur and get my stuff." He got up and left the kitchen, and Mr. Weasley soon followed.

Harry didn't realise it until he said something, but Charlie was sitting in the seat to his right. "Fleur's up in the room with Mum. She hasn't been doing so well since she found out about Ginny."

Harry wasn't sure if he wanted to talk about that again. "Yeah, I know how she feels."

"Dad told us what happened… what you told him," Charlie went on. "I wish I could say I would have done the same if I was her. Ginny was made of stronger stuff than the rest of us. I wouldn't be surprised if she gave You-Know-Who a run for his money."

Harry simply nodded.

"By the way, I hope it's all right, but Fred and George have been up in the attic all morning experimenting," Charlie told him. "I think they're working on some new products. Some things to help us out soon," he added with a wink.

Harry allowed himself to smile. "Yeah, as long as they don't burn down the house." He thought about what he just said, and followed up with, "Maybe someone should check on them soon."

The rest of the morning passed uneventfully, for the most part. Harry was surprised when Chelsea showed up, looking tired and shaken up, but all right nonetheless. According to her, she ended up in the middle of the fighting at the Ministry, and instinctively jumped back in the fire, Flooing to her parent's house. Harry was relieved to see her, but knew he still had many other friends left at the school.

The afternoon found Harry and Hermione sitting in the library. Hermione was reading through some random books, but Harry didn't know what she was looking for.

The rest of the house was temporarily empty. Most of the Order and Hogwarts staff had left to either check on or be with families, or gather supplies and information. The Weasleys had returned to the Burrow to collect some possessions and make sure the wards on their house were untouched.

"Do you think they'll get back safely?" Hermione asked, looking up from her book.

"I hope so," Harry said. "But we don't know how bad it is."

Not long after that, Harry heard a noise far below them, telling him that someone had returned. He listened, assuming they would come upstairs. Eventually, he could hear footsteps coming down the hall, but the sounded uneven and staggered. Harry got off the couch and stuck his head out the door.

He was shocked to see it was Ron, walking slowly, almost aimlessly. Something wasn't right about him. "Ron? Are you okay?" Harry asked.

As soon as Harry spoke, Ron looked over and smiled widely. "Harry! Hey, I was just looking for you! I wanted to show you something."

He walked over to Harry, and tried to go through the door but ended up running into the frame. Hermione was out of her seat when she heard who it was, and walked over to them. "Are you feeling okay, Ron?" she asked him.

"I feel great!" he said, finally making into the room. "And did you know I have this thing… and I can… make it do stuff. Like magic." He pulled out his wand and waved it around. "All I do is say De—… wait, what's that word? I go like this and say it." He waved the wand again and some books toppled over across the room.

That was when Harry recognised the smell on Ron's clothes. "He's off his face," Harry said to Hermione.

"Not really," Ron giggled. "But I will have another."

"Ron, where have you been?" Harry asked him, grabbing both his shoulders and forcing Ron to look at him.

"Mostly out looking for those things… you know, You-Know-Who's things."

"Horcruxes?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah, that's them," Ron said brightly. "I must have checked every where. In all the alleys and bins I could see. But I didn't find any."

"Just great," Harry said. He felt like punching his friend. "Hermione, do you know any sobering spells?" Hermione shook her head. "Well, could you look on up? Before Ron does anymore damage."

"Hey, maybe there's one in here!" Ron said, and broke away from Harry's grasp. He walked over to the desk and tapped on of the legs, saying, "_Revelio!_" As expected, nothing happened. "Okay, I'll try over here, and you look over there," he said to Harry.

"Ron, would you cut it out," Harry said, but Ron continued to stumble around the room.

Hermione was across the room, pulling all the Charms books she could find off the shelves. "I'm not seeing anything," she said after looking for a few minutes.

"Can't we just Stun him and wait for him to come around?" Hermione didn't answer.

Meanwhile, Ron was becoming more of an annoyance with every moment. He continued slowly going around the room, casting spells and knocking things over.

"Ron, can you stop doing that?" Harry asked exasperatedly. "You're not helping things." He heard Hermione groan in frustration, and she got up to look for more books.

"Ah, Harry!" Ron exclaimed, as if he had only just seen him. "Let's try that." Ron then cast the same charm on Harry.

Harry could feel a cold wash over him as the spell hit him, then vanish an instant later. "Ron, knock it off! This isn't the time," Harry said with a raised voice. "Hermione, will you take his wand from him."

Harry didn't hear an answer. What he heard was the _thunk_ of a book hitting the floor and Hermione gasping. Harry turned to see what had happened, and found Hermione staring at him, mouth open in shock.

"H-H-Harry," she stammered, "y-you… you're…" She looked like she'd seen a ghost. "Y-you've got…"

"What is it?" Harry asked, starting to worry. "What are you trying to say?"

Instead of answering, Hermione fumbled for her wand. Once she pulled it out, she pointed it in front of Harry and flicked it. At once, a tall mirror was conjured out of thin air, floating in front of him.

Harry looked at his reflection, and understood why Hermione was acting that way. There, in the center of his chest, was a circle, almost like a window inside him. And in the middle of that circle, Harry could see a small orb, solid black, like dense smoke, with a sickly green aura. His stomach turned to ice.

"It's… me?"

.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.

Hours passed, and Harry was feeling worse and worse every second.

Hermione was standing in front of him, as she had been for some time, working diligently but growing more and more frustrated. A thin sheen of sweat had formed on her forehead as she muttered under her breath. Some were incantations, and others were more colorful words Harry had never hear her say.

Harry, on the other hand, felt like a pincushion, being poked and prodded over and over. The weird sensation of dozens of unfamiliar spells washing over him was uncomfortable, but he wouldn't care if it worked.

It wasn't much longer before Hermione lowered her wand, and stood there, breathing heavily. After an agonisingly long moment, she gave him the verdict with a shake of her head, before walking over to the couch and collapsing with exhaustion.

"Sorry, Harry… I tried everything I knew," she said. Ron, who hadn't needed a spell to sober up when they found out what was going on, placed a comforting hand on Hermione's shoulder.

Harry walked over and joined his two friends, still trying to wrap his head around it. Though, the more he thought about it, the more sense it made. The connection he had with Voldemort's mind, how he could always sense when he was close, the ability to speak Parseltongue. It all added up. The night Voldemort tried to kill Harry, he had made Harry a Horcrux.

"Do you think Dumbledore knew?" he asked, breaking the silence. Both his friends looked over at him.

"I don't know, Harry," Hermione answered. "He may have thought it was possible. But I don't think he could have known for sure." Harry gave her a look, asking for an explanation. "Well, when Voldemort tried to kill you… nothing like that had ever happened before. He would have had pieces of his soul floating around at some point, but I don't think anyone could have guessed one would attach itself to you. I mean, there were signs, even if _we_ didn't realise it."

"I'm sure he at least suspected it," Harry said. "I wonder if he would have told me."

Ron could see that type of thinking wouldn't do any good, so he tried to change the subject. "Harry, let's just worry about getting rid of it."

He was probably right. "Hermione, is there nothing else you can think of? No more spells, or Potions even?"

Hermione looked at him sadly. "I did all I could. This isn't really something you can find in books."

"Well, we can try," Harry told them. He could see both his friends were eying him nervously. "I haven't checked all the books in here, so it's worth finding out. Would you quit looking at me like I'm dying?" he snapped at them. "The only thing that's changed is we know _why_ certain things happened." They both muttered hasty apologies.

However, something else occurred to him when he said that. And it made him feel sick all over again. He might wretch this time.

"Harry?" Hermione asked, seeing something change on Harry's face.

"I just though of something else we haven't tried," he said to her. It was the only thing that had worked on an earlier Horcrux when all else had failed: the Killing Curse.

After a moment, Hermione seemed to realise what he meant, and gasped. "Harry, no!" she cried. "There's no way we're doing that."

Ron caught on too. "Don't even think about it, mate. There'll be another way."

"How do you know?" Harry asked. "What if there isn't?" As much as he didn't want to believe it, he couldn't stop himself. He felt like he was suffocating. This could be the end for him. He always knew there was a possibility he would die because of Voldemort. But he always pictured it happening in a battle, trying to fight off the Death Eaters, or protecting his friends. Nothing like this.

"Harry, stop this!" Hermione said, breaking his thoughts. "We're not doing this. No one is. So get it out of your head right now."

That was easier said than done. "Hermione," he started, another thought occurring to him, "if I was hit with the Killing Curse—" he ignored the look she gave him, "would it be possible for the curse to remove Voldemort's soul and leave mine?"

She thought about it for a minute. "I don't know, Harry. There's no way to tell. It's not likely though." She then added, "But that doesn't matter, because it's not happening."

"No… it does matter," Harry told her. "Don't you see? This is it. This is what we've been working towards all year. This is the end."

"Harry what are you talking about?" Ron asked.

"Voldemort couldn't be attacked earlier because of his Horcruxes, right?" he explained. "But we've found them all. I have to go after him." His friends didn't seem convinced. "Look, if I fight him, and he kills me, he's only hurting himself, right? He'll going back to being mortal, and someone else can pick up where I left off. And if I beat him… well, then we'll have some time to figure out how to get rid of the one in me before he can get his body back."

Hermione looked upset. "Harry… you don't need to do this."

"But I do," Harry told her. He didn't like it much either, but he had to take responsibility. "I'm not going to let anyone else die for me. It's time I fight my own battles. Prophecy or not, this is what I have to do."

Hermione didn't say anything else, but Ron asked, "Do you… I mean, can you beat him?"

"I don't know," Harry said. He thought he might fare all right for a while, but he _did_ know how it would end. "But I'm still going."

"When?"

Harry knew there was no point in putting it off. "Tonight." Ron and Hermione looked shocked. "Look, I could stay here and train for days, or weeks, or longer, but what good would it do? I could always find another reason to wait, or say 'I need a little more time.' But he'll only kill more people if I do. You made your… Vow thing, to protect me until I was ready, right? Well I'm ready."

He then prepared to tell them something he knew they weren't going to want to hear. "And I want to ask you two to stay here." They immediately voice there objections, as he figured. "Just hear me out. Voldemort wants to kill me, right? So any Death Eater is going to take me straight to him. I can't promise they'll do the same to you. They'd probably just kill you on the spot."

"You think we don't know that, Harry?" Ron said.

"And you still want to come?" he asked. Ron nodded. Hermione did the same, not hesitating for a second.

Harry smiled, realising just how lucky he was to have friends like he did.

.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.

It was late that night when the trio was making preparations to return to Hogwarts.

They were sitting around the fire in Harry's room, discussing their course of action, as well as going over a list of their supplies and any spells they would likely need. Their main goal was to avoid detection until Harry could reach Voldemort. The Invisibility Cloak, as well as a number of cloaking and concealment spells would help to do that.

Harry had briefly pondered, with some humor, if he should just walk up and tell Voldemort he was challenging him to a duel. Voldemort was sure to accept.

While Harry was confronting Voldemort, Ron and Hermione were to search the school for any sign of the other students. Examination of the Marauder's Map showed they were nowhere on the grounds. Harry dreaded that Voldemort had already killed them all, but Hermione told him how unlikely that was. She speculated that they were rounded up and moved somewhere else, though she couldn't have guessed why.

When they were just finalising their plans, there was a knock on Harry's door. He got up and opened it to see Lupin standing there.

"Hey, Remus, what is it?" Harry asked, apprehensive.

"What are you three doing in there?" asked Remus, as if he already knew.

"Nothing," Harry said, as nonchalant as he could be. "Just talking."

"Really?" Lupin said, clearly not believing him. "So when are you going?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Come on, Harry," Lupin said. "I think I know you well enough by now. Did you think I didn't notice how you didn't say a word at dinner?" He waited for a response, but didn't get one. "You're going back to Hogwarts, aren't you?"

Harry opened his mouth to say something but stopped. He looked back in the room at Ron and Hermione, and then stepped out into the hallway with Remus, closing the door behind him.

"Look, this is something I have to do," Harry told him. "I can't really explain it fully, but I'm the only one who can do this. I know Ron and Hermione will come with me whether I tell them to stay or not, but I can't let anyone else get involved. I'd like to ask you not to try and stop me."

Remus smiled lightly. "Harry, for the first time, I'm not going to stop you."

Harry was surprised to hear this. "No?"

"No," Remus answered. "I want to help you. We've been working all day, gathering people to fight, and we're ready. We're ready to take back the school, and then the Ministry."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "How many?" he asked.

"Enough," was Remus' answer. "Come on. Let's get McGonagall and Kingsley and the others down in the kitchen and start making preparations."

.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.

A/N – So I finished this only a week after the last chapter, but I figured I'd wait and try to get caught up on this story. I'm nearly finished, so I can probably have it all posted before the end of May.

p.s. omg, I freaking hate Chelsea right now. And now I have to cheer for them to beat the filthy mancs? This day sucks.


	22. That We May Live In Peace

**Chapter 22**

**That We May Live In Peace**

Harry was sitting back in the kitchen, again, not long after talking to Lupin up in his room.

He sat there, at one end of the table, fidgeting nervously, and thinking about what he was soon going to say. Ron and Hermione were on either side of him, occasionally glancing at him. He had decided to inform some of the Order of certain things before they were to travel to Hogwarts. Just in case something happened to him, Harry wanted to make sure the others knew why.

He had specifically asked Lupin to only invite a handful of certain people, not wanting to address the whole Order. On one side of the table, the entire Weasley family was already waiting, and at the other end, across from Harry was McGonagall. The other side held Kingsley, Flitwick, Sprout, Lancaster, Remus and Tonks. They were still waiting on Moody.

Fortunately, Harry didn't have to wait much longer before he heard the familiar clunking sound of the ex-Auror's wooden leg. He entered the room, and upon seeing everyone looking at him, said, "Sorry I'm late," rather sardonically. He then took a seat away from the table.

McGonagall cleared her throat. "Well, now that we're all here… Remus, I believe you were the one who asked for us in particular?"

Remus shook his head. "No, I did it on Harry's request."

Everyone turned to look at Harry, either questioningly or expectantly. Harry took a deep breath and decided to begin. "Before anyone leaves here tonight, I wanted to see this specific group of people. I consider you my friends, of course, but you're all here because you're either very close to me, or someone I respect a great deal. And with some people, both." He met everyone's eyes as he was saying this. "In any case, I know I can count on you all, if something happens to me tonight." He could see a few people about to voice objections, but he held up a hand to stop them. "Please, just listen."

He paused for a moment, knowing what he needed to tell them, but not knowing where to start. There was so much they didn't know.

Eventually, he asked, "Does anyone here know what Horcrux is?" McGonagall and Moody were the only ones that reacted. The former turned slightly pale, and the latter leaned forward in his seat, both eyes fixed on Harry and a slight frown on his face. Harry could tell they didn't know exactly, but had heard the term, and knew it was something dreadful. The others merely shook their heads or looked at him for an answer.

"I didn't think so," Harry said. "Well, some of you may know, when a wizard murders some one, specifically with the Killing Curse, it damages his soul. To the point where a piece is torn from the whole." He let that sink in for a second. Most of the people looked nervous, or apprehensive. It was clearly not a topic they were keen to discuss. Or possibly it was the fact that Harry was telling them so knowledgably. "Well, a wizard, when desperate enough, can take that fragment of his soul and seal it inside an object. Doing this would basically protect them from death. With part of his soul outside his body, were the body destroyed the soul would stay here. Kind of like it's anchored here, by the object. That object is called a Horcrux."

The others looked horrified at the notion. "Mr. Potter, you shouldn't know such things," McGonagall said, clearly uneasy at what else Harry might know.

"But I should, Professor," Harry told her. "Hadn't you ever wondered why Voldemort didn't die the night he tried to kill me?"

As he expected, the entire room was shocked by this revelation. There was a mixture of repulsion and disbelief on there faces. Kingsley, who had remained rather unruffled, asked, "You mean You-Know-Who made one of theses things; these Horcruxes?"

"No, not one," Harry answered. "Six."

If the situation had been different, their reactions might have been amusing. Even Moody was almost gaping, though he collected himself quickly. "That's about how I felt too," Harry told them. "Someone making one is extremely rare. Making more was unheard of. According to Dumbledore, no one had ever tried doing it more than once."

"So Dumbledore knew then?" Flitwick asked.

"Yes."

"And he told you?" Harry was asked, this time by McGonagall.

Harry nodded. "He knew when his death was near. He trusted me to carry on when he couldn't. He knew it was my responsibility." Several seemed to disapprove of Dumbledore charging Harry with such a dangerous task, or sharing with him such potentially damaging information.

"Are you saying you've been out looking for these things?" Remus asked incredulously.

"Yes. That's where I was the night Dumbledore was killed," Harry told them. "We found one that night." He didn't feel like going into detail on the fake locket, seeing as Harry found the real one eventually. "And I unknowingly destroyed one my second year, in the Chamber of Secrets. This is also why I wasn't at Hogwarts the beginning of the school year. Over the past year, I've found one on my own, and two more with the help of Ron and Hermione."

Mrs. Weasley looked horror-stricken at the thought of her son running around with a piece of Voldemort's soul. Harry didn't blame her. "So that's all of them, right?" Mr. Weasley asked.

Harry hesitated. They didn't need to know about the last one yet. Or at all. "Yes. You'll have to forgive me for not telling anyone sooner. Especially you, Professor," Harry said to McGonagall, recalling the many times she had asked him point-blank what he was hiding, and he couldn't tell her. "Voldemort still believes it to be a secret, from everyone. If he caught on that I knew, or was searching for them, he could very easily make more, and we'd be right back where we started. But as of right now, he is mortal. He can be beaten. Not easily, of course, but he can be killed."

McGonagall nodded in understanding. "So why tell us now then?" Remus asked.

"Like I said earlier. In case something happens to me," Harry told them, ignoring their protests. "Don't bother, my mind is made up. Tonight, I'm going to confront Voldemort."

Most of them cried out, though the person he could make out most clearly was Mrs. Weasley. "Harry, what are you saying? We won't let you!"

Harry held up his hand again to quiet them. "Look, I appreciate your concern. And I expected you'd react this way. You wouldn't be my friends if you didn't. But this is something I have to do." Before they could say anything else, Harry went on. "Look, my whole life, people have been protecting me. And dying for me. And for what? So when I'm older and this is all over, I can live alone, thinking about all my friends that are gone?" This seemed to pacify some of them. "If I didn't stand up and fight now, what would that make me? Maybe I am special, maybe I am destined for something. If that's so, then it's for this. This is something I have to do."

The room was completely silent when he finished talking. It stayed that way for several minutes, and no one looked over at Harry. It was McGonagall who eventually spoke. "Well, Mr. Potter, as much as I hate to, I'm afraid I have to agree. You've put your trust in us, and we must do the same." She paused to look around the room. Harry did the same, and saw many nods of agreement, though some more reluctant than others. "So then… what can we do to aid you?"

Harry allowed himself a small smile.

.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.

A little later, Harry was up in his room getting ready.

According to McGonagall, they needed to travel to Hogsmeade to meet up with everyone the Order had contacted the day before, and then they could put together some sort strategy. And they needed to leave soon.

Hermione was in the room with him, pacing back and forth in front of his desk. Ron was still a floor below them with his family.

Harry had just swapped his tennis shoes for his Dragonhide boots, and was now about to put on his vest. He had decided to wear it over his undershirt instead of against his bare skin. It seemed to be more comfortable that way, especially if he needed to do a lot of running. After pulling it on, he also put on his jumper and adjusted everything. On his bed, he had set out his Invisibility Cloak, the Marauder's Map, and his wand.

"What am I forgetting?" he said to himself, rummaging through his trunk for anything else that may be useful.

Behind him, Hermione seemed like she was about to explode. "How can you be so calm right now?" she asked.

Harry stopped and stood back up. "I don't know… I guess I'm used to this," he said, turning to her.

"Are you insane?" Hermione almost shouted. After a second, she went on, "I can't do this Harry," much softer than before. "I don't want to lose you."

Harry walked over to her and placed his hands on her shoulders to get her to stop pacing. "Don't worry about me, Hermione, I'll be all right," he told her, hoping to placate her.

Hermione scoffed at this. "Come on, Harry, don't do that."

"What do you want me to say?" he asked her. "You know what I have to do. Better than everyone else, knowing what I've got inside me." She nodded, but didn't seem any less distraught. "Look, I probably can't beat him. But there's still a chance, right? I've been lucky before. Anyway, I should be concerned about you. Isn't there any way I can talk you into staying?"

Hermione shook her head defiantly. "Just… just be careful," Harry told her. "Stick with Ron, and Remus. Don't let your guard down, and you'll be fine." Harry didn't know what made him say what he was about to, but the words came out. "You're gonna save the school and be a hero. You'll graduate with perfect scores, meet a great guy to spend your life with, and you'll be the best Minister of Magic we've ever had."

He could see tears start to well up in Hermione's eyes before she turned away from him. Harry wanted to do something, to comfort her, but he knew if he hugged her, it would just make things harder. Instead he grabbed his wand, cloak, and map from his bed and put them in his pockets.

"Listen," he said, after standing in silence for several minutes, "if anything does happen to me, there's some things I want you to have. Just in my trunk, and around the room. You'll know them when you see them." Hermione turned back to him, but didn't say anything.

"We should probably get going. Are you ready?" Harry asked her once he was certain he had everything.

Hermione nodded.

.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.

Harry was surprised at the number of witches and wizards the Order had managed to assemble so shortly.

They were lining the main street of Hogsmeade, all whispering in small groups; some of them, Harry recognised, and some he was very thankful to see. As he walked down the street with Hermione and Ron, several men and women greeted him, even ones that didn't know him personally.

Shortly after, they arrived at the Three Broomsticks. McGonagall had chosen this location for them to meet and figure out what exactly they were going to do. Upon entering, Harry found a group of people he expected to see. Most of them were from his own meeting earlier, as well as the rest of the Order, and some who Harry assumed were high-ranking Aurors. The one face Harry didn't expect was Rufus Scrimgeour.

The old Minister approached him as soon as he saw Harry. "Mr. Potter, it's good to see you're still with us," he said.

Harry nodded in thanks. "You too, sir. We had heard you might not have made it out."

"It was nothing," Scrimgeour waved it off. "I was hardly going to let some young upstarts come into my Ministry and do away with me."

Harry could help but smile at the old man's fortitude. He was definitely a soldier, and Harry supposed that was something they needed in a wartime Minister.

"Harry, over here," Lupin called to him, halting his conversation. Scrimgeour put a hand on Harry's shoulder and led him over to the table where the rest were seated. "Did you bring the map?"

Instead of answering Lupin, he took the Marauder's Map out of his pocket and set it on the table. Lupin activated it under his breath and then folded it out completely so that the entire castle is showing.

Some were about to comment on how amazing the map was, or ask where Harry had gotten it, when they noticed something very strange. Harry searched the entire castle as quickly as he could, but could only see one name. The only dot on the map was Voldemort's, located in the Great Hall.

"That's it?" one of the Aurors asked. "He's the only one there? We brought five score witches and wizards to fight one man?"

Beside him, Harry heard Ron mutter, "That may not be enough."

"He's right," Scrimgeour said. "If they're not here, they must have moved to the Ministry. We should split our forces and attack there as well."

Harry was the first to speak. "No, we shouldn't." Something just didn't add up to him. He knew Voldemort would have the larger group of Death Eaters at the castle. It was more important to him. "Remus, is there a way be in the castle but keep yourself off the map?"

Remus could see what Harry was getting at. "I'm not sure. We never tried doing something like that. But it could be possible."

"Well we know Pettigrew was there, and he helped you make it."

"Peter was never as smart as your dad or Sirius," Remus said. "But, he did know enough about how the map worked to explain it to someone else. It's possible that some of his 'friends' found a way to exploit it."

The rest of the group had been following this exchange with some fascination, but when they stopped, Kingsley asked, "So you think they're still there?"

"Most likely," Harry said. "I saw them when I checked the map yesterday."

"How many did you see?"

Harry tried to think back. "Fifty. Maybe more." Some of the group relaxed slightly, while others looked more apprehensive. "He also brought a dozen giants. And we know he has an army of Inferi at his call. I didn't see them last night, but he could have brought some since then."

"They wouldn't show up on the map," Remus told them.

Everyone pondered that for a moment. "I don't know about this, Minister," another Auror said. "We'd be stretched even if that's all there was. But there could be more? I don't like the idea of walking in there blind."

For the first time, Hermione spoke up, and Harry was a little surprised to see she was paid attention to. "Well, the giants may be strong, but they're no match for wizards. As long as you stay far enough away and concentrate your spells on one at a time, they shouldn't be a problem."

"And what about Inferi?"

"Fire," Harry answered almost immediately, thinking back to his encounter in the cave. Several people looked at him strangely, as if he shouldn't have known that. "What?"

"Nothing, Mr. Potter," McGonagall said, answering for the group. "You just surprise us sometimes, with some of the things you know."

"What else can we expect?" Scrimgeour asked. "What of the Forest creatures?"

McGonagall thought for a moment. "Well the only sentient beings are the Centaurs and Acromantulas. But both are likely to stay out of a fight. Unless we venture too close to them."

Scrimgeour acknowledged this. "Well then, Minerva… knowing what you know, do we think we have enough strength to win this fight?"

McGonagall nodded. "We do. Let us not forget, Hogwarts has defenses of its own. You-Know-Who may be occupying the castle, but he is, by no means, in control."

"Very well, lets spread the word then," Scrimgeour told them. "Split up and makes sure everyone outside knows what to do. Should they see any Inferi, use fire spells. As for Giants… I think fifteen wands focusing on one should be enough to bring it down. And don't forget, there may still be students inside, so don't cast at the first thing that moves."

Everyone around the table voiced their agreement, and got up. Harry watched as they left the Three Broomsticks and split up. He soon followed them, with Ron and Hermione close behind.

Outside, Harry could see a larger group than before, with even more Apparating in every minute. "Why are there so many now?" Harry asked his friends. "All of the sudden they want to fight for the Ministry? What changed their minds?" He couldn't keep a tone of bitterness from his voice. After all, these were the same witches and wizards that had sat back and let Voldemort do what he wanted, and allowed themselves to get into this situation.

"Look around, Harry," Hermione told him. "Maybe they don't fight for the Ministry. Maybe they fight for you."

Sure enough, as they walked down the street, it seemed everyone was watching the three of them. Some nodded at Harry, while others approached him to shake his hand. _I guess that's one thing I'm good for,_ Harry thought.

"I guess you're right," he told his friend. "Come on, let's find some place quieter."

They continued walking down the road, distancing themselves from the large group. Once out of earshot, they turned down an adjacent street, not going anywhere in particular, but simply walking. Harry could sense his two friends were too nervy to sit still. It was exactly how he felt.

Harry discreetly slowed his pace, allowing himself to fall behind his friends a few steps. He felt a sharp pang of guilt at what he was about to do. Without making a sound, Harry slowly pulled his wand out of his pocket. Then, he took a deep breath and wordlessly Stunned Hermione.

The spell hit her in mid-stride, knocking her out instantly. Before she could fall forward, and before Ron realised anything, Harry caught her with an arm around her waist. Ron did hear this, and looked back to see what had happened. Thinking they were being attacked, he drew his own wand and started looking around.

Harry ignored him for the moment, though, gently carrying Hermione to the nearby building and sitting her up against the side. "Sorry it had to come to this," his whispered to her peaceful form, "but you'll understand."

"You did that?" Ron asked, apparently having heard what he said.

Harry stood back up, wand still out, and nodded. "I had to. She wouldn't have stayed, no matter what I told her." He looked back at Hermione, feeling that same guilt, but sadness as well.

Ron didn't react the way Harry expected him to. He stashed his wand back in his trousers and walked over to Harry and Hermione. "You won't have to do me," he said. "I kinda figured this would happen." He looked downtrodden, but did say, "Just know… I would have fought with you. Against anything."

Harry couldn't help but feel touched. "I know. But that's why you can't," he told his best friend. "It's just me this time." Harry wasn't sure what else to say.

Neither was Ron, as they both stood there in silence for several moments. Eventually, Ron said, "I guess you really are ready, Harry. If not, the Vow would have killed me for letting you go."

Harry understood. "I am ready," he agreed. He was finding it hard to leave, but knew it would grow even harder the longer he waited. "Listen, I still need your help tonight. When I'm gone, you can wake her and join the others. Once you get inside, look for our schoolmates." He chose that word, instead of 'students', to make sure Ron knew importance. Harry went on, "If the Death Eaters are being hidden from the map, they may be as well. So look everywhere."

Then, as an afterthought, Harry added, "And try using this." He pulled the two-way mirror out of his back pocket. "Neville has the other one. I haven't been able to get him all day, but you can keep trying. Maybe you'll get lucky."

Ron reached out and took it. But before Harry could let go, Ron grabbed him and pulled him into a one-armed hugged. "Good luck, mate," he said, before letting go.

"Thanks," was all Harry could say. With all his strength, he forced himself to turn away and head down the path toward the school, leaving his best friends for what could be the last time.

.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.

Harry was sure not to look behind him the entire way out of the village. He didn't need anymore reason to go back. That, and he knew if anyone noticed him, they would undoubtedly try to stop him.

However, as Harry was walking past the last building, he sensed that he was being watched. Reaching out with his Magic, he could feel someone was very close.

Sure enough, as he passed the shop on the very edge of the village, a familiar voice called out to him softly. "Where are you sneaking off to, Potter?"

Harry whipped around, wand already in hand, and leveled it at the dark figure in the shadows. "A little late for hide-and-seek, isn't it?" Harry replied.

The other person chuckled, and moved slowly into the light. If the drawling voice hadn't given him away, the white-blond hair certainly did. Harry didn't need to wait until his face was visible to recognise him. "Malfoy."

Sure enough, Draco Malfoy continued out of the shadows and approached Harry. He looked slightly worse off than he did last time Harry saw him. In large part due to an inch-long scar on his right cheek.

"Still out hunting Death Eaters, are we?" Harry said. "What did you do to the one that gave you that?"

"Funny as ever, Potter," Malfoy quipped back. "I don't think you should be this far away from your bodyguards… could they not find your leash?"

"I don't have time for this," Harry said, attempting to turn back around, but Malfoy stopped him.

"Going after the Dark Lord all by yourself? Maybe you should leave this one to your superiors."

"Come off it, Malfoy," Harry said, pushing him away. "Do you think this is a game? Do you think we're all here for a bit of fun?"

This set Malfoy off instantly. "Don't talk to me about reasons or motives, Potter," he snarled, grabbing Harry by the front of his jumper. "You think I'm after the Dark Lord for glory? Or for rewards? He murdered my mother. He left my father to rot in prison. He _destroyed_ my family and he _besmirched_ my name." He pushed Harry away from him, causing the other to stumble back a few steps. "I fight for my family's honour. I fight to restore the name of Malfoy to its rightful place. I won't take lectures from someone who's just out to play the hero."

Harry seethed at this. "You think that's what I'm after?" he almost shouted. "Have you forgotten what he did to _my_ parents? Or what he tried to do to me? And that's not even why. I'm not doing this for them, or for Sirius or Dumbledore. I'm doing this for everyone. Everyone he's killed, and everyone he's going to kill. All the people who are too afraid to walk down the street, or even leave their houses. Not some selfish revenge."

Malfoy didn't react the way Harry would have expected. "Fine then," he said, with a smirk. "If you're so eager to die, I won't stop you. I'll be along later to finish."

Harry shook his head in annoyance, and started walking away. He couldn't figure out Malfoy. Harry knew a pureblood family's name was important, and he knew Malfoy had grown much stronger in the past year, but did he really think he stood a chance against Voldemort? Harry felt slightly nervous when he realised that Malfoy could very well be stronger than himself. What would that say about Harry's own chances?

Continuing up the path, Harry tried to put those thoughts out of his mind. But he found it increasingly harder with ever step bringing him closer to Hogwarts. He was, after all, marching towards his own death. Wasn't he?

He certainly didn't want to die. And he was going to fight Voldemort with everything he had. But how much of a chance did he really stand? That thought was easier to bear by the truth that, himself being a Horcrux, his death would actually weaken Voldemort. That didn't mean he was going to simply throw down his wand and be killed. After all, like he told Hermione, if he did manage to win, they'd have a little bit of time to try anything else before Voldemort could get his body back.

In any case, these thoughts certainly weren't going to help. If he had any worries about dying, he could never fight at his full potential. This possibility of worrying, of course, was another reason he had to go alone.

Harry didn't notice at first, but his feet had taken him all the way to the front entrance of Hogwarts. With a rueful grin, he couldn't help thinking how he wished it would have taken him longer.

_None of that,_ he told himself, _it's time to be brave now. For everyone_.

He took a deep breath, and slowly pushed the doors open.

Surprisingly, they swung open easily. They weren't even locked. Harry felt a chill go up his spine. It was as if he, or someone, was being expected. Harry pushed that out of his mind. There was no one in the Entrance Hall.

His silently walked to the middle of the room. The door to his right was closed as well. That was where he needed to go. He felt another chill.

This one had nothing to do with his next move. It came with the thought of what had happened the last time he stood in this room. For all he knew, he could be standing on the very spot where Ginny was killed. This didn't bring him down, though. It steeled his resolve. He was, after all, fighting for her as well.

_This is it_, he thought, as he turned to the Great Hall. His heart was pounding audibly, but he ignored it. If this was to be the end, then this was how he wanted it to be. He was here, not because of some stupid prophecy, but because of his choice. It was entirely on his terms. All his life, he had been looked to as the saviour of the wizarding world. Now, it was time to do just that. He strode forward and opened the door.

As soon as the door swung forward, Harry saw him. Seated at the staff table, like he owned the place. Harry looked at the ghostly white face, into the gleaming red eyes, making sure his mind was shielded. The slits of Voldemort's pupils narrowed, and a grin crept onto his face. Harry stepped into the room.

"Ah, Harry!" Voldemort called to him, opening his arms welcomingly. "I was so hoping you would come back."

Behind him, Harry could see Snape, standing with his arms folded behind his back. Harry's blood boiled at the sight of him. It had been so long since he had contact with the double agent. Surely he had known about the attack, and hadn't warned Harry. He still didn't know where the Potion Master's loyalties lie, but it wasn't looking in Harry's favour at the moment. He felt a surge of anger when he thought of how many Snape could have killed the previous night. His face, upon seeing Harry, remained impassive, save for one raised eyebrow.

Harry banished those thoughts for the moment. He had something more important to focus on. Voldemort soon spoke again. "So, Harry, you come before me alone? Where are your friends? Who is here to fight your battles tonight?"

Gritting his teeth, Harry said, "I don't need any help, Voldemort. You're killed too many of my friends and family when they were protecting me, but not now. I'm going to make their sacrifices worthwhile."

"Spoken like a true Gryffindor," Voldemort sneered. "Not afraid to say my name, when witches and wizards all over the world fear to _think_ it?"

"Why should I be afraid of your name," Harry replied, "if I'm not afraid of you? Now, I came here for a reason."

"Eager, aren't you?" Voldemort shot back, standing up. "Unfortunately, there is a problem. You see, I'm afraid I'm having some uncertainties regarding loyalty. In one of my servants in particular."

Voldemort slowly walked over to Snape, who stood completely still, and bore a look of slight confusion. "It seems my attack last night didn't go quite as planned. For some reason, you had enough time to gather all the students and staff and get them to safety in the short time it took me to get through the wards."

Harry frowned at this. If he hadn't captured any students, and they weren't on the map, then where could they have been? Voldemort went on. "That struck me as odd, as it is a rather large school, with a significant student body." He had been slowly circling Snape as he spoke, but here, he stopped. "I fear our mutual friend, Severus, has been letting information slip against my wishes. Or, rather, my commands."

Before Snape could refute those claims, Harry stepped in. "For your information, Snape hasn't told me anything for months. The only reason everyone escaped so quickly is because I knew you would come here at some point. So I was prepared."

Voldemort smiled. "Quite possible," he hissed. "Nevertheless, I feel it necessary to test our little spy's loyalty. Just to be sure. And I can think of no better test than to kill the 'boy-who-lived'. Can you?"

Snape looked surprised, and spoke for the first time. "My lord, you ask this of me? I cannot."

"Dear Severus… surely you're not scared of young Harry. Or is it that you don't wish to prove your loyalty? Have you something to hide?" Voldemort's eyes glowed bright with malice.

"Not at all, my lord," Snape quickly replied, humbling himself. It sickened Harry. "The boy is nothing. I could kill him quite easily, and think nothing of it. But I couldn't take that from you. It is something you've sought after so long. To kill Harry Potter, and let everyone know that none can stand up to you and survive."

"You flatter me Severus," Voldemort said. "As you do so well. But that doesn't help the matter at hand."

"I will do anything else you wish, master," Snape said, this time getting to his knees and bowing his head. "Have me kill the blood traitor, or the Mudblood, but do not ask me to take your glory. Think of the looks on their faces, the leaders of the Light, when they look down at your feet and see their saviour dead."

Voldemort paused, and considered this for several minutes. "Perhaps you are right, Severus," he finally hissed. "I have been looking forward to this for quite some time. Very well, you will have your way. Once I deal with Harry here, and when the others arrive, you will seek out and kill our late hero's best friends. And then we can talk more about your loyalty."

"As you command, my lord," Snape said, bending low to kiss the hem of Voldemort's robes. "You are most wise."

Voldemort then turned back to Harry. "Well, Harry, it seems you will get your wish. We shall duel, and this time, no one will be here to save you. Perhaps you will put on a nicer show than in the graveyard?"

"I've gotten a lot better since last time," Harry said coldly, drawing his wand.

"Then hopefully you can last more than a few minutes before you die," Voldemort mocked. "It would be longer than your father."

Harry let himself be goaded into attacking, and did so carelessly. Before he could raise his wand more than an inch, he was flat on his back. He didn't even see Voldemort take out his wand, or cast a spell. Picking himself up, he mentally berated himself, and made sure he knew he wouldn't be getting any more soft attacks like that.

"Come now, Harry, let's try to make this worth my while."

Harry concentrated, focusing his mind and calming himself. Just in time, too, as the next moment, another spell was cast his way. Harry already knew what it was, and ducked down just in time for the jet of green to pass over his head. He didn't have time to relax, as another soared at him.

This time he dodged right, rolling over and popping back up. Harry continued to dodge as more and more Killing Curses came at him. It certainly took a lot to cast it once, so casting many in succession was a great feat. But Harry didn't count on Voldemort tiring himself anytime soon.

The next one flew straight at Harry's chest. He quickly summoned the nearest bench to intercept the curse several feet in front of him. It hit the bench a split-second later, shattering the wood in an explosion of splinters, which Voldemort immediately sent hurtling Harry's way.

In a flash, Harry conjured up a bright orange disk in front of him, not unlike a Shield Charm. The splinters hit his shield and instantly burned to ash.

Harry didn't have a moment to relax though, dodging left to avoid another Killing Curse. They kept coming, and Harry continued summoning benches and tables to catch them. Each one was destroyed in a row, littering the floor with large chunks of wood.

As Voldemort prepared for another barrage, all the while smiling in enjoyment, Harry decided to try something different. He summoned the nearest table, Transfiguring it en route, into solid marble.

The next curse hit the stone bench, but instead of breaking it, merely blew a chunk off from the corner. It wouldn't hold forever, but it would last longer than wood. Harry slowly crept forward, moving the bench around the air in front of him to block more and more Killing Curses. They impacted with tremendous force, and it was putting quite a strain on him to hold on to it magically.

Soon, though, there was a brief lull in the bombardment. Acting quickly, Harry 'let go' of the bench and fired a Disarming Spell around his shield at Voldemort. Before it could hit the floor, Harry 'caught' the bench, centering it in front of him. It caught Voldemort off guard, but he had just enough time to parry the incoming spell into the ground. Harry tried again, firing a Stunner, and another Stunner, and then the Cruciatis Curse. Voldemort blocked the first two, then whirled away from the third. The Unforgivable smashed into the back wall, showering stone and dust onto Snape.

"Not bad, Harry," Voldemort called to him. "I may have misjudged you." Harry could feel something happening to the bench in front of him, and he strained to hold on. But to no avail, as Voldemort Vanished the makeshift shield with relative ease. "This may be more entertaining than I thought."

"I'm just getting started," Harry growled.

He was about to continue when Voldemort lowered his wand, and cocked his head to the side. He seemed to be looking at something no one else could see. Then, out of no where, he said, "Severus… I believe you're needed outside."

Snape nodded and quickly hurried out the door, not sparing Harry a glance. Harry didn't notice as he was still confused. When the main doors opened, though, Harry could hear it. Sounds of shouting, and fighting, from down on the grounds.

The battle had begun.

.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.

A/N – I had this done a while ago, but I held off posting it so I could work some more on future chapters (which I didn't do). So hopefully posting will make me get to work.


	23. Beyond Good and Evil

**Chapter 23**

**Beyond Good and Evil**

Harry strained his ears as he tried to hear the fighting outside. It was soft at first, but steadily grew louder and closer. He heard dozens of voices shouting, as well as several explosions and _crack_s. A moment later, there was a very loud _THUMP_ and the ground shook beneath him. Harry could only hope that was the attackers bringing down a giant.

"Don't worry about your friends, Harry," Voldemort's cold voice brought him back to the Great Hall. "They will be killed soon enough. And perhaps if you last long enough, those that are captured will get to witness your death." He grinned gruesomely as he added this.

Harry mentally frowned at his words. Voldemort seemed awfully sure his Death Eaters would win. Perhaps he didn't know they were outnumbered.

Before he could ponder it further, the doors slammed shut forcefully, and Harry could hear the clicks of the locks. "Let's resume, shall we?" Voldemort taunted.

Harry turned back to his foe and steeled himself. He held his wand loosely at his side, but was concentrating fully, ready to react in a split-second.

At first Voldemort didn't move, perhaps testing Harry's courage. But Harry wouldn't give in. This was what he had prepared himself for. All those days spent practicing and those nights spent studying. He wasn't going to make a mistake.

And then Voldemort struck. With no warning, the dark wizard brought his wand up and sent another Killing Curse at Harry, who had just enough time to leap out of the way. As soon as he landed, Harry started firing. Stunners, Disarming spells, and Impediment Curses flew from Harry's wand in a barrage of light. Voldemort was equal to it, dodging and blocking with speed only possible through magic. And between that, he managed to send his own array of curses back at Harry.

Harry didn't know what spells were being cast at him, but he didn't want to find out; he evaded as well, using his superior reflexes honed from years of Quidditch. Those he couldn't avoid, he parried away or blocked with a hastily-erected Shield Charm.

This fighting continued for some time, with neither opponent gaining the upper hand. Though, Harry suspected the other was holding back quite a bit. If that was the case, it could mean Voldemort didn't take Harry very seriously, and that was something that needed to be taken advantage of.

In a momentary lapse of fighting, Harry thrust his wand in front of him and called, "_Ancileis_!" while drawing his wand back towards his body. With a blinding flash, a large golden kite shield appeared in the air before him. Harry quickly grabbed it with his left hand and hefted it before him, just in time to block another incoming spell.

The jet of red pinged off the polished surface of Harry's shield and soared into the wall to his left. Satisfied, Harry got his balance right and charged at Voldemort. Spells continued flying at Harry, who blocked the ones he could, and sidestepped the ones he couldn't. Voldemort clearly wasn't expecting this kind of physical attack, and continued trying to hit Harry with curses, but Harry persisted, reacting just quickly enough.

Once he was close, Harry surged power into his legs and jumped forward with all his might. Again, this caught Voldemort off guard, and he couldn't evade before Harry smashed into him. There was a loud crash that reverberated off the walls as Harry hit his opponent in the chest with his heavy shield. The way Harry executed his attack, all his momentum was transferred into Voldemort with such force that he flew into the back wall, while Harry dropped easily back to the ground.

Harry didn't waste a second to see how hurt Voldemort was. He grabbed the edge of his shield with both hands before quickly spinning around. After two spins to get up enough speed, Harry let go of the shield at just the right time, sending it flying through the air like a discus, heading directly for Voldemort's prone figure.

Unfortunately, the Dark Lord recovered just in time, dropping down to a crouch just as the spinning piece of metal whizzed over his head and impacted into the stone with an earsplitting clash. The resulting collision broke several pieces of stone loose, as well as a cloud of dust.

When it settled, Harry could see his shield sunk a good six inches into the wall. Voldemort looked relatively unharmed, though his red eyes were gleaming viciously.

Harry was immediately on the defensive again, blocking and dodging, while trying to find an opening for attack. He wasn't sure if he had trained well enough, or if he was just lucky, but he lost count of the amount of Killing Curses that had shot past him by mere inches. Some were close enough to ruffle his hair.

The two continued trading blows, moving slowly around the room. Voldemort had the upper hand, doing most of the attacking, but Harry was holding his own well enough. This angered Voldemort greatly, who was growing more and more frustrated by the second, and the intensity of his attacks showed it. Harry was beginning to get tired, but he kept going.

It wasn't long before they paused again, both trying to break the other down. Each wizard stood there, breathing heavily. But the tips of their wands still crackled menacingly.

The opening Voldemort was looking for came a moment later. The fighting between the Order and Death Eaters had grown closer and closer as Harry and Voldemort duelled. Harry could hear them, and sense them, in the back of his mind. Light and Dark, battling on, until they had spilt into the Entrance Hall and deeper into the castle. A loud explosion just outside the Great Hall caught Harry's attention, if only for a second, but it was a lapse he would pay for. Voldemort brandished his wand.

Harry didn't have enough time to react, and the spell hit him squarely in the chest. He didn't know what Voldemort had used, but it felt like a cannonball had just collided with him. He could feel himself launched backward with frightening force.

Harry vaguely tried thinking of a way to stop himself before he hit something, but almost immediately, he slammed into the doors.

The fact that the doors to the Great Hall were thick oak, and heavily locked, made no difference. Through the blinding pain, Harry could hear the wrenching sound of the hinges bending the wrong way and breaking off, as the doors splintered and cracked. They crashed to the ground in several pieces as Harry continued his flight into the Entrance Hall.

Harry quickly realised that the stone wall behind him was a lot harder and wouldn't give as easily as the wooden doors. He tried everything to stop himself magically, but there wasn't much he could do. He managed to slow himself just enough that when he did hit the hard wall, it didn't knock him unconscious.

His head cracked against the stone and he fell to the floor, slumping over. The force also knocked his wand from his hand, and he made a futile attempt to grab it as it clattered and rolled over towards the main doors. Harry was only dimly aware that all the fighting in the crowded Entrance Hall had stopped, and all eyes were on him. All he could sense was the agonising pain in his head and the trickle down his neck.

It could have been a second or an hour that Harry sat there, not knowing anything but the throbbing of his head and the pounding of his heart in his ears.

"Harry!" a voice called to him from far away, but he could feel hands on his arm, shaking him roughly. "Harry! Come on, get up!" the voice pleaded again. Harry recognised it.

"Mmhmhh," Harry tried to speak, as he forced his eyes open. Everything was blurry at first, but soon a familiar face swam into view. "Parvati?" He must be seeing things.

But the Indian girl seemed real enough. He could feel her wand on his head, trying to heal him. And sure enough, some of the pain began to subside. Around the room, Harry started to see more and more faces. Order and Death Eater and Ministry… they all stood there, temporarily forgetting their previous duels to see what was happening.

His dizziness had all but faded, and while he still had a massive headache, Harry could at least think straight. Just in time too, as Voldemort stepped out into the Entrance Hall, amid gasps and cheers, looking triumphant.

"My wand," Harry muttered, pushing himself up and stumbling unsteadily towards the doors where it lay. Parvati could see the trouble he was in, and rushed ahead of him to get it sooner.

"Too late, Harry," Voldemort called to him, almost laughing. "_Comburo!_"

Harry spun around to see a cone of flames rushing toward him and Parvati behind him. "No!" he shouted, and in a moment of pure reaction, threw his hands in front of him.

Much to the surprise of everyone in the room, including Harry, a bright blue Shield appeared out of thin air, right in front of him. The fire hit it with enough force to push Harry back, but his Shield held. The disk of magical energy diverted the flames past him on all directions, but keeping him and Parvati unharmed.

Voldemort pushed harder, pouring more magical fire onto Harry's Shield, causing him to skid back several feet more. But Harry held on. He could feel Voldemort growing angrier, but he wasn't giving up. Harry didn't know how, but he seemed to know what to do.

Focusing on his Shield, he pushed forward with all his might. If everyone had been surprised before, what they saw next completely shocked them. There was a loud _crack_, and the bright orange flames threatening Harry turned completely to ice. The huge mass of ice hung there for a second, before falling to the ground, turning to water, and washing over the floor.

Harry's Shield disappeared, and he let out a deep breath he had been holding. There was a look of pure disbelief on Voldemort's face, but Harry ignored it and turned to make sure Parvati was all right.

She looked unharmed, but was shaking. Harry didn't know if it was from fear, or disbelief. He could understand if it was both. Once she snapped out of it, she handed Harry his wand, a look of awe on her face.

Harry kneeled down to take it from her. "What are you doing out here?" he asked his classmate softly. "What happened the other night?"

Parvati didn't answer at first, still trying to comprehend what had just happened. Harry had to shake her and give her a second, before she said, "Oh… it was Neville," she explained quickly. "After Seamus went through, the Floo got cut off. We didn't know what to do, but Neville got us all down to the Room of Requirement before Death Eaters made it up to us. It was the only place they couldn't find us."

"And the other houses?" Harry asked tentatively.

"They came too," Parvati nodded. "Like they knew exactly what to do." Harry felt like a huge weight was lifted off his shoulders. His fellow schoolmates had survived the attack. Parvati went on, "When we heard the fighting, Neville rounded us up and we joined everyone else."

Harry nodded. The old Harry would have been angry, or upset, not wanting his friends to be in danger. But now, he realised they had every right to fight along with him. It was their school as well, and very much their battle. And it was what he had trained them for. "Well, I think you should get away from this area for now."

Parvati didn't argue. She backed away and headed out onto the grounds, where more fighting was still going on. Harry stood back up and turned to Voldemort. He had expected the other wizard to attack him while his back was turned, but Voldemort seemed to still be figuring out what he had just seen.

But it didn't last, and another sickly grin crept over the snake-like face. "You are quite full of surprises, Harry," he hissed.

Harry sensed there would be a break, and tried to focus his magic on healing his head. It wasn't something he had done wandlessly much, but it was worth a try. Voldemort sensed his drop in concentration though, and his grin grew wider.

Harry quickly tried to put his guard back up, but it was too late. Voldemort raised his left hand and snapped his finger loudly, and Harry felt a pulse of magic hurtling toward him. A moment later, Harry saw the lenses of his glasses shatter. And then, the razor-sharp shards, with no where to go, were pushed into his eyes, and he could see nothing.

Harry screamed out in pain, and dropped to his knees. His first instinct was to rub his eyes, but he stopped his hands halfway up, realising that would do more harm than good. The pain was literally blinding, and Harry felt himself start to shake.

Several voices called out his name, and footsteps started towards him, but his allies were quickly attacked. The Death Eaters didn't want anyone helping him, and the fighting around the room instantly resumed. Voldemort and Harry were the only ones that stayed still. The former was all but laughing at what he had done.

A thought came to Harry, that seemed to be the best thing to do, but it also make him feel sick. He could feel blood running down his face though, and knew he had to grit his teeth and do it. Harry took off his glasses frames and taking a deep breath, tapped them with his wand and whispered, "_Reparo_."

He groaned through clenched teeth as a new wave of pain hit him. The broken glass embedded in his eyes and face was immediately pulled out and reset into his frames. It was an entirely unsettling and unnerving sensation, and as soon as the last jagged shard was sucked out, Harry turned his head and retched.

Wasting no time, he set his wand point on his temple and muttered the best Healing charms he knew. He could feel the magic working, and a warmth and tingling feeling spread through his eyes, face, and to the back of his head. It didn't take long for it to subside, and Harry nervously opened his eyes.

He breathed a sigh of relief when he could see, however poorly. Tapping his glasses again, he added an Unbreakable Charm to them, silently cursing himself for not thinking of that earlier. He then wiped the blood from his face and returned his glasses.

Harry stood back up and faced Voldemort, in the midst of a dozen raging battles, staring down the extremely powerful wizard. Voldemort didn't look angry, as Harry would have expected. In fact, he looked amused, or happy he had caused Harry so much pain.

"So what's next?" Harry asked evenly.

Without warning, Voldemort brought his wand up and sent a raging gust of wind at Harry. Harry reacted quickly enough this time, but his Shield Charm did nothing to stop the spell. The wind swirled around him like a tornado, picking him up and carrying him out of the castle and onto the ground.

Harry felt himself flying high into the air, spinning and whirling about in a storm. When he finally was released, Harry was a hundred feet up above the lawn. He could see more fighting all over the grounds, with dozens of bodies littering the grass. There was an agonising moment where he hung in the air, before his stomach dropped and he began plummeting down.

He didn't have much time before he was a puddle on the lawn. He was falling too fast to summon a broom in time. Thinking quickly, he righted himself, and held his wand above him. From the tip, he sprouted a massive umbrella.

Harry nearly let his wand slip when he was jerked back up, as his giant parachute caught the air. He glided slowly down to the ground, and cancelled his spell a few feet above the grass. He landed gently, twenty feet above where Voldemort now stood.

"I must admit, you're quite resourceful," Voldemort said to him, his voice carrying easily. "It's been a while since I've had to work this hard to kill someone. But I suppose it will be that much more satisfying when you die."

"We'll see," was all Harry said. Though they were standing in the middle of the battlefield, no one was near enough them to bother their duel. Harry could still see some Giants taking on small groups of wizards, and Harry made sure he didn't get to close to them.

"_Deflagro!_" Harry shouted, starting back up, and sending a ball of fire soaring towards his opponent. Voldemort quickly put up powerful shield, causing Harry's projectile to bounce off back towards its castor.

Harry followed suit, sending back to Voldemort, who flicked his wand and easily burst it with a bright flash. He wasted no time, conjuring a whip of fire and sending it towards Harry.

Harry rolled to his left, just evading, but the coil of fire continued pursuing him. He banished it away from him. Before it could come back, Harry slashed his wand at Voldemort and said, "_Discidium_." A green disk shot out of Harry's wand and flew at Voldemort.

The other wizard ducked down to narrowly avoid the spinning, razor-sharp disk, and it continued on towards the castle. Harry watched as his spell reached one of the Giants and sliced right through the handle of his club, before he could bring it down on some Ministry wizards. The heavy club fell heavily onto the Giant's head, who looked around dumbly, not understanding what had just happened.

While Harry watched this, Voldemort brought his whip back, catching him on his left forearm. He grunted in pain as the fire burned through his sleeve and into his skin. He quickly cast his previous spell, severing the whip, which dropped from his arm and vanished in a puff of smoke.

Both wanted to quickly gain the upper hand, and immediately cast spells at each other. And with a sense of déjà vu, Harry watched his Stunner meet Voldemort's Killing Curse in midair, and combine into one long strand. He felt the Priori Incantatem set in as the connection turned gold.

Momentarily stunned, Harry watched the golden threads slowly begin to branch out and envelope him. He didn't want to, but he was mesmerised by it. It took all his strength to clear his head stop what was happening.

Harry quickly wrenched his wand to the right, breaking the connection. He didn't want to deal with that right now. Voldemort seemed to look relieved as well, remembering the last time that had happened.

There was no break, as they continued to fight. Harry could feel himself getting tired, but he wasn't giving up. He went on the defensive again, dodging and blocking, while looking for an opening to attack. The problem was Voldemort seemed to have an infinite amount of energy, and didn't appear to be slowing down at all. Harry could also feel himself tiring mentally, and tingling started creeping up in his scar.

Harry increased his intensity more and more, deciding to attack, and using more powerful curses. Voldemort matched him with ease. Harry then tried using some Dark spells he had learned, but none of them landed. The superior wizard ducked his Bone-shattering Hexes, and evaded Harry's Obliteration Curses, leaving behind gaping, smoking holes in the ground.

The battles around them raged on, but in his peripheries, Harry could tell that his friends were winning. That's all he allowed himself to think at the moment. He didn't want to dwell on which of his friends might already be dead, or worry about the ones that weren't. All he could focus on was himself and Voldemort, and try to block everything else out.

But this didn't turn out well. Some of the duels grew closer and closer to Harry's own, but he tried to ignore them. This proved to be a bad idea, as he didn't notice until too late the other figure approaching him. All Harry heard was a war cry before he looked over to see a heavy club swinging through the air.

Harry threw up his right arm in a foolish attempt to stop it. There was a sickening crunch and Harry staggered under the force of the blow. And then there was the excruciating pain in his forearm. He dropped to his knees again, clutching his arm. It turned out to be the metal butt of an axe.

He looked over to see Walden Macnair, laughing oafishly, clearly proud of himself. Harry remembered him from their fight at the Ministry, as well as Buckbeak's execution. Harry tried to ignore the agonising pain, and needed to quickly, as Macnair raised his axe again.

But before he could take another swing, an invisible hand grabbed his neck and threw him back twenty yards. Harry looked back to Voldemort, whose wand was outstretched, and a look of annoyance on his face. "I don't need his help to kill you."

Harry slowly got to his feet, but the pain in his arm made it hard to stand up straight. He had no respite though, as a Cruciatis Curse was sent his way. Harry dodged, landing as gingerly as he could, but still causing himself pain. He took his wand with his left hand, as the burns on his left arm weren't as bad as his broken right. Another spell rushed at him, this time a Bludgeoning Hex. Harry tried to cast a Shield, but his unpracticed left hand did the wand movement wrong and he was hit hard in the chest.

Harry managed to stay on his feet this time, and quickly countered with a Stunner, but it soared well off target. Out of frustration, he tried again and again, but Voldemort didn't even need to dodge. Voldemort simply stood there, smiling.

Harry needed something that wouldn't miss. And he had a good spell, but needed a distraction for it to work. He knew Voldemort would be trying to skim Harry's thoughts, as he had been doing all night, to guess what spell Harry would use. Harry's Occlumency kept Voldemort from knowing, and thus made it harder to foresee what was coming.

So, Harry decided to use this to his advantage. He focused hard on the Killing Curse, mentally projecting it as if he was about to cast it. But behind his mental barrier, he was casting a different spell. "_Fulgoris,_" was the spell he concentrated on, focusing his magic into his wand.

Voldemort took the bait, and was slightly shocked when he saw Harry preparing to cast the Killing Curse. With him off guard, Harry released his actual spell. A ball of bright blue light formed on the tip of his wand before bursting forward into dozens of lightning bolts. The white arcs shot towards Voldemort, who was prepared to dodge, believing the unblockable spell was coming. Harry poured as much power as he could into his wand, and the flashes grew even brighter and crackled as they reached Voldemort. The bolts were so spread out and numerous that there was no way he could avoid them all. He desperately tried to cast a shield, but there was no time.

The first bolt of lightning hit Voldemort dead on, bringing him to his knees with a blinding flash. Many more followed suit, striking him, and Voldemort screamed in pain. Harry knew it was hurting him, but he didn't know how long he could hold on to his spell. Streaks of energy that didn't hit Voldemort hit the ground behind him, melting rocks and making deep tracks in the earth.

Harry continued as best he could, holding Voldemort down, but he was running out of energy. He could feel his spell weakening every second, and he couldn't keep it up. In fact, Voldemort was slowly getting to his feet. Harry watched in dismay as the dark wizard, with great force, threw Harry's spell off him.

Harry nearly collapsed. He was completely spent. He didn't think he had anything left. And yet, Voldemort was still standing. Harry's attack had weakened him considerably, and he seemed hurt, but he was much better off than Harry.

Voldemort looked furious, as he stood there, panting and staring down Harry. "Is that all you could muster?" he taunted, stopping to wipe blood from his mouth. His red eyes were glowing again, brighter than before. "You thought you could beat me with such puny attacks." He flicked a spell at Harry.

Harry saw it coming, but could do nothing about it. He let the spell hit him. Harry was frozen in place, unable to move an inch. He tried struggling, but didn't have enough strength.

"Well, Harry Potter," Voldemort said through deep breaths, "once again, you lose. You have proved, again, that you are nothing special. Lucky, yes. But no match for me." He walked closer to Harry. "Look, Harry, your friends approach. They've come to watch you die. I don't think I'll keep them waiting." Harry couldn't see anything but Voldemort in front of him. "Good bye, Chosen One."

This was it, Harry knew it. There was no way out now. He couldn't even close his eyes. He watched, watched the words form in Voldemort's mouth, watched the look of glee on his horrible face. He had done his best, but it wasn't enough.

And then, something happened neither of them expected. Harry saw a flash from behind Voldemort, and a red jet of light headed right for him. Voldemort whipped around to block it, releasing Harry.

Harry dived to his left, getting some distance between himself and his attacker. When he came to a stop, Harry looked up to see who had intervened. A short, squat form was behind them in the shadows of the castle.

"Wormtail!" Voldemort practically screamed. He was right. Harry recognised the form of Peter Pettigrew. "So, you show your true colours at last. I was right never to trust a disgusting rat like you." It certainly wasn't someone he had expected to save him, but he didn't care. Somehow, Pettigrew's intervention caused everything to become clear to him.

Harry wasn't quite sure how it happened. He had been close to death many times before, but this time was different. It felt so final, like he knew there was nothing he could do. And in that moment, that split-second, as Voldemort prepared to cast his spell, Time slowed for Harry. And he could see things more clearly than he ever had.

Voldemort was about to cast something at his servant, but Harry stopped him. Not because he cared about Pettigrew, but because he finally understood. He wasn't going to let Pettigrew be killed for him. It should be the opposite. He understood what was going to happen. What had to happen.

"Don't bother with him," Harry said weakly. He tried to get up, but couldn't. Instead, he propped himself up on his good elbow. "I'm the one you want."

Voldemort turned back to Harry, with a look that would have been a raised eyebrow on a normal person. "And why is that, Harry? You don't want someone to die for you this time? Finally accepting your fate?"

Harry managed a weak smile. "You're going to kill me either way. But it doesn't really matter, does it?"

"And? Please, Harry, go on," Voldemort walked slowly over to Harry, looking even more frightening in the moonlight. He wore a look on his face that showed he didn't really care what Harry had to say, but would amuse him a little bit longer.

"Did you never wonder why Dumbledore chose the Phoenix as the symbol of the fight against you?" Harry asked. Both his arms were throbbing in pain, and his earlier injuries began to resurface because of his exhaustion, but he continued on. "Didn't you wonder what it represents?" He wasn't sure where this was coming from, but he was just now realising a whole lot of things.

"What does it matter?" Voldemort spat. "Dumbledore is dead, and soon his precious Order will be as well."

"But that's the thing, isn't it?" Harry replied, smiling again. "That's the thing about the Phoenix. It _always_ rises from the ashes. Just like what it stands for… hope." Voldemort looked like he was about to laugh at this, but Harry went on. "Hope… hope never dies. That's the one thing you can't take away. You killed Dumbledore, and we still fight. You'll kill me, and they'll still fight." Harry turned over to spit out a mouthful of blood. "Kill everyone here, people will still fight."

"You are a fool!" Voldemort shouted. "They all fear me! They will submit, and I shall rule them. You have led your pathetic friends here with promises they could win, but you seem to have made them forget… I am the most powerful being alive." Voldemort sneered evilly at Harry. "The only thing your precious hope has brought them is a swifter death."

"Maybe…" Harry told him, which just made Voldemort angrier. "But as long as one person remains that dreams of a better life, without you in the world, then you won't have won. Evil will never win. Or don't you know your history?"

Voldemort's anger dropped, and he laughed softly at this. "Didn't I tell you this the first time we met? You were so naïve back then… I would have thought you'd have grown by now. There is no good and there is no evil. There is no Light and there is no Dark."

Harry shook his head, interrupting Voldemort before he could go on. "But there is… and your biggest problem was you could never see that."

"Well, I'll have plenty of time to ponder the complexities of the universe when you, and all my enemies, are dead."

Harry smiled one last time. "Memento mori, Tom."

All over the grounds, the fighting had died down, and all had been still for several minutes. No one approached the two figures, but many around were watching intently. The silence that hung over the area after Harry made that statement was palpable. Harry expected Voldemort to kill him right then. Or lose his temper again. He was surprised when Voldemort laughed.

"Seriously, Harry? You should know best of all," Voldemort said. "I am forever!"

This was it. It was really the end now. And Harry was ready. "Not really. You underestimated me. And not just tonight" he told Voldemort. "I destroyed your Horcruxes."

Voldemort's face fell, and there was a huge pause.

"You… what?"

"Yeah, I destroyed them," Harry went on. "All six of them. Looks like your mortal again. No more Lord Voldemort. Just plain, ordinary Tom Riddle."

Harry could see what was going through his mind. He could feel a chill washing over the area, as Voldemort grew more and more angry. His eyes glowed brighter, and his face became even paler. Harry waited, and seconds passed, then minutes. It seemed ages before he spoke again. "Well… no matter. I'll kill you, and make more. No more Harry Potter, no more Order, only Lord Voldemort, for the rest of time," he said, almost mimicking Harry.

"We'll see."

"Is that it then?" Voldemort asked derisively. "Won't you call for help? Your friends are all here, watching us."

"That's not who I am," Harry replied, coughing slightly. "I've never asked to be protected. I came here tonight for just the opposite. To protect them."

Voldemort could see that Harry knew he was about to die, yet wasn't afraid. This seemed incomprehensible to Voldemort, but he regained himself, and smiled again. "Very well, Harry Potter. This has been interesting enough, but I believe you have lived far too long. The prophecy will be fulfilled, and I will finish the job I started seventeen years ago."

Harry made no move to protect himself. He knew what had to be done. He wasn't afraid. Harry closed his eyes.

"_Avada Kedavra!_"

The jet of green rushed at Harry striking him in the chest.

…….

And it hurt.

It shouldn't have hurt. He should be dead. But he wasn't. He felt the curse wash over him, but he didn't die.

And then he felt something weird. Harry had aches all over his body, but he knew this was different. He felt like he was in a hurricane, with wind whipping around him. He could hear it too. Something was pulling up on his body, though he was still flat on the ground.

Harry cracked an eye open the tiniest bit. Sure enough, he was still lying on the lawn at Hogwarts. Voldemort stood over him, a scared look on his face. He knew something had gone wrong.

And then, like a bolt of lightning hit him, Harry felt an enormous jolt, and a bright flash followed. Harry gasped as he felt something sucked out of him. He opened his eyes completely, and Voldemort flushed again.

"But… you're dead"

"No," Harry said, understanding, "you are."

Voldemort raised his wand to Harry again, intent on cursing him as many times as he had to. But before he could, there was another flash, this one coming from his own body. Voldemort couldn't comprehend what was going on, but he seemed to be in pain.

"What… is this?" he demanded, clutching his chest. But whatever was happening grew worse. Harry could recognise what Voldemort was feeling, and it seemed the same thing Harry went through.

He dropped to his knees, and looked at Harry, almost pleadingly. "Help… me," he gasped. Harry did nothing. The next moment, there was a loud sucking noise, and a bright orb of light appeared from Voldemort's chest. Voldemort didn't realise exactly what it was, but from the look of horror on his face, Harry could see he knew how important it was. Voldemort tried to grab it, in vain, right before it vanished.

"But… I can't die… I'm… immortal…" was the last thing Lord Voldemort ever said. There was another flash, not of light, but fire, and he fell to the ground before being consumed.

A minute later, all that remained was a pile of ashes. Harry smiled again. It was over.

……..

A scurrying sound grabbed Harry's attention, and he looked up to see Pettigrew standing over him, looking between Harry and his own forearm. "He's… gone?" the small man asked weakly.

Harry nodded. "He's gone."

"And we're… even?" Pettigrew went on.

"Even?" Harry repeated weakly. "I don't think so. You paid me back for sparing your life four years ago," he told the other man, wishing he had more strength. He didn't know what a coward like Wormtail would do to him in such a disadvantage. "But that doesn't change how you sold out my parents."

Despite Harry's current state, Pettigrew still look completely scared of the person that just killed Voldemort. "Get out of here, Wormtail," Harry told him. "I don't ever want to see you again. And go now, before Remus finds you. He won't be as forgiving as I am."

Pettigrew looked shocked, but didn't argue. A crowd was already hurrying over to where Harry lay. He quickly transformed into his rat form and scurried off.

Harry could hear the approaching footsteps, and tried to pick himself up, but was unable. The frontrunners of the group reached him the next moment anyway, and Harry knew who they would be before they got there.

He saw the faces of Ron and Hermione appear above him. Ron had a huge grin, and Hermione was crying, but Harry could see she was happy underneath.

"He's gone," Harry told them, unable to keep a smile off his own face. This caused more tears from Hermione, but she was smiling now as well.

"What happened, mate?" Ron asked. "We thought you were done for."

Harry knew exactly what had happened. "It was too much," he told them weakly. Others were reaching him now, and Harry relaxed more as he saw his friends. "He killed too much… split his soul too much. The piece left in him wasn't enough by itself." It was a simple and basic explanation, but he didn't care if they understood at the moment.

Instead, he did something he hadn't done in a long time. He laid his head back in the grass and laughed. He wasn't sure why. Maybe because he had never felt so relieved. Maybe because for the first time in his life, he was free. Free from threats, free from expectations, free from tragedy and suffering. He was light enough to fly. It was pure, unbridled happiness, like he had never felt before.

Voldemort was gone forever. He would never come back. All his killing and Horcruxes, in his pursuit of immortality, destabilised his remaining soul so much, it couldn't live on its own.

Harry didn't learn until many years later the reason why he survived, but it was the very thing Dumbledore told him was his greatest strength. At the end of his battle with Voldemort, Harry knew what would happen if the soul piece in his own body was to be severed. He knew he had to let Voldemort kill him. And he was willing to do it, to save the rest of the world from Voldemort. It was a small price to pay for the happiness and safety of everyone else.

He saw their faces, before it happened. In his mind, he saw all the faces of the ones he was fighting for. And dying for. He saw his friends, and his family. He saw the ones he had lost, and the ones he didn't even know. And that was what saved him.

After all, what is done out of love always takes place beyond good and evil.

.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.

A/N- So, that wasn't _too_ similar to Deathly Hallows. In any case, I thought of it before she did. Well, not really, but I thought of it before she published it. The last sentence, and subsequently the chapter title, was from a book by Friedrich Nietzsche of the same name. Which seemed to fit perfectly. Also, this story's just about done, and the last of it should be posted in the next few days. I'm serious this time.


	24. The Fate of the Phoenix

**Chapter 24**

**The Fate of the Phoenix**

The next moments were a blur to Harry. Dozens of people crowded around him, some smiling and some crying. But everyone wore the same look that mirrored exactly how Harry felt.

As happy as Harry was, all the movement and noise above them (because people all over the grounds were whooping and cheering by now) was dizzying to him. The pain in his limbs and head was slowly returning, and that, coupled with his extreme exhaustion wasn't helping the shapes and lights moving around him. He closed his eyes.

Hermione immediately realised something was wrong. "Harry?" he heard her call out over the din of noise. He then felt her kneel down beside him and felt her cool hand on his forehead. "Ron, go and find Madame Pomfrey," she said softly. "Hurry."

Something about Hermione's voice made him feel better, like it gave him strength. He opened his eyes and saw her face right above his, and watched a small smile form. Shakily, Harry lifted his left arm and took her hand. "Sorry… about earlier," he said weakly.

Hermione's tears returned when she heard this, but she continued to smile. "Don't worry about it," she told him, giving his hand a firm squeeze.

It wasn't long before Harry felt footsteps approaching and saw Hermione look over in relief. Ron had returned, and with him was Madame Pomfrey. The Healer wasted no time on celebrations or congratulations; she kneeled on the ground next to Harry and set to work.

Harry could feel odd magics washing over him, which he assumed were scans to tell Pomfrey exactly what was wrong. Soon after, she began working her wand over his arms and head, Healing each of his injuries. Before he knew it, Harry was feeling much better.

He wasn't back normal, by a long shot. While his multiple wounds were dampened to just a dull ache, he was still exhausted, physically and mentally. Madame Pomfrey made to conjure a stretcher and take him up to the Hospital Wing, but Harry wouldn't have it. There was still so much to do.

"Help me up," Harry said to his friends. They stooped down and very gently raised him to his feet, and then supported him. Harry knew he probably should go and lie down, but he knew he wouldn't be able to rest until he made sure his friends were all right. There were even a few battles still going on, that he could hear beyond the celebrations.

"So how bad is it?" Harry asked warily.

.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.

The next hour or so passed like a whirlwind for Harry. Swarm after swarm of people rushed up to him, shaking his hand or patting him lightly on the back. He saw more tears of happiness, and cheering and dancing. Harry couldn't help but smile.

He allowed Ron and Hermione to lead him around the grounds, while they described the battle. Harry only half-listened though, as he was looking around at the faces in the crowd. He knew Fred and George were safe when hundreds of brilliant fireworks started going off in the sky.

In fact, none of the other Weasleys had been harmed, which relieved Harry greatly. Though, not as much as finding Remus safe. He was the one Harry had worried about the most. After all the man had been through his entire life, he deserved to live in peace more than anyone.

They continued on, leaving Remus and Tonks, and Harry started to see some of the bodies of those killed. Many were Death Eaters and, it pained Harry to see, his fellow students. Many more were witches and wizards, Ministry and not, from all parts of the country. Some Harry knew, and some he didn't. It didn't matter thought: they and the students were heroes, every one of them.

One body Harry hadn't expected to see was that of Alastor Moody. He lay with the others, looking more peaceful than Harry had ever seen him. He was sure to be, after all the wars the old Auror had seen.

"It took four Death Eaters at once to bring him down," Ron said solemnly from beside Harry. "But not before he offed about ten of the buggers."

Harry allowed himself a small smile. "I guess that's how he would have wanted it," he said softly.

Ron and Hermione steered him away from the bodies, for which Harry was thankful, and he listened to them continue to describe the fighting.

"When the Order said they got everyone they could, they weren't kidding," Ron told him. "They must have scoured the whole country yesterday and brought anybody with a wand." He pointed out Cho Chang and Harry's old Quidditch captain Oliver Wood, helping secure the bindings on a struggling Death Eater. Further on, Harry saw even more old classmates.

"Oh, and we saw Snape out here to," Hermione said. "He came out around the time we showed up."

"And?" Harry asked. He was curious what the spy had done, and if he had finally decided to choose a side to fight for.

"He duelled with several of us," she told him. "It was weird though, because he wasn't doing very well. Only defending, and when he did attack, he used Stunners instead of Unforgivables. And his missed spells always seemed to hit one of the other Death Eaters."

"Figures," Harry chuckled softly. At the questioning glances he got, he explained, "Well, he found a way to continue to seem neutral, even in a duel."

"Git," Ron muttered.

"And that's not all, Harry," Hermione added. "Malfoy was here too."

Ron nodded. "Yeah, I think that was a bigger shock than seeing Snape. Seeing Ferret boy fighting with us. He must have killed as many as Moody did in the end."

Harry pretended to be surprised, but he wasn't in the least. "I still can't figure him out either. Any idea where he is now?"

"Not a clue," Ron answered. "Probably snuck off before someone from the Ministry saw him."

"Harry!"

Harry turned around when he heard his name called, and saw Neville rushing up to him. He grinned at the other boy, relieved to see him alive and relatively well. He seemed to have been in some pretty rough fighting, with several scratches and bruises, but Harry had never seen him happier. Despite his weariness, and inability to stand up straight on his own, took his arm off Hermione and shook his other housemate's arm.

"You did it Neville," Harry told him happily. "You kept everyone safe."

"It was nothing," Neville brushed it off. "I just did what you would have done." Neville let go, and let Hermione take Harry's arm again. "Now, you look like you could use some rest."

Harry grinned wryly. "Yeah, I suppose I could."

.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.

When Harry woke up in his bedroom the next day, it was already the middle of the afternoon.

He felt much better, though he still ached slightly, and was quite tired. When he first tried to sit up in bed, he grimaced as a sharp pain stung his chest. Harry looked down to see a Quaffle-sized bruise in the centre of his torso, mottled with dark brown and blue. _One last little gift from Voldemort_, Harry thought as he gingerly got out of bed.

He didn't remember much from after he got to his room last night, and was slightly surprised to find himself in only his underpants. On the floor beside his bed were his clothes from last night, far too bloody and tattered to put back on. Fortunately though, most of his clothes weren't packed by Ginny the other night, so he grabbed a fresh set of robes and hurried downstairs.

He wanted to find McGonagall and Kingsley, as they were sure to still be in the school. Then he could find out exactly how bad they had fared the night before. What he wasn't expecting was to push open the doors of the Great Hall and find it packed. Students and parents, Ministry wizards and others, all feasting and celebrating.

There was a split-second of silence when Harry entered, before cheers erupted from everyone present. He was immediately swarmed from all directions by the jubilant crowd. At any other time, Harry would have not put up with that, but not this time. Instead he joined the celebrating. He slowly made his way through the throngs of people, shaking hands and receiving hugs. Food and drinks were shoved into his hands. He returned smiles and shared laughs, and accepted the deafening ovation.

Eventually, Harry made it up to the staff table. He had hoped to find McGonagall there, but it was empty. To the side though, Remus stood waiting for him by the door to the small antechamber.

"I thought all this racket would be for you," he said to Harry, grinning brightly. He grabbed Harry in a tight hug. "You have no idea how proud your parents would be right now."

When he pulled away, Harry said, "I just hope they could have seen, where ever they are. Besides, I'm sure they're happier with you for taking care of me till now."

Remus laughed with Harry, and led him into the nearby room. Inside, he finally found the Headmistress, along with some of the Order, most of the Weasleys, and Ron and Hermione. Harry received the same reception from the other crowd.

"Mr. Potter," McGonagall said, approaching him and grabbing both his hands. She seemed overjoyed. "We owe you a great debt for what you've done. Not just this school, but wizards and witches all over the country. And the world."

"Thank you Professor. But," Harry said, not trying to be modest, "I wasn't the only one who helped. And I know I couldn't have done what I did without everyone in here."

Eventually, the adults went back to discussing what needed to be done next, and Harry went over to Ron and Hermione.

"Feeling better?" Hermione asked as Harry sat down beside him.

"Yeah, a little. You have no idea how much the Killing Curse hurts," he said, feeling his chest throb again.

"Well, if you had died like you were supposed to, you wouldn't have to worry about that," Ron said cheekily.

Harry laughed at this. "Yeah, sorry about that. I guess you guys are stuck with me a bit longer." Hermione simply rolled her eyes.

"Just out of curiosity though," Ron said, "do you have any idea why you didn't?"

Harry shrugged and shook his head. "Not really. I guess it was just time for me to finally catch a break, huh? I'm just glad I didn't have to get one of you to do it." Harry leaned back in his chair. "Is Neville around?"

"He's up in the Hospital Wing," Hermione answered. "With Luna. Madame Pomfrey still can't figure out what's wrong with her." Harry was surprised by this. Luna had been hit with an unknown spell, but Harry was certain their Healer could handle it. "If she can't doing anything soon, they'll have to send Luna to St. Mungo's."

"I'm sure she'll be all right," Harry said, wishing he could believe it. The fighting was over, and he shouldn't still be losing his friends. That reminded him of something, and he stood up. "Excuse me for a moment."

Harry walked over to the table where some of the adults were talking. He didn't want to interrupt them, but he did want to listen to what they were saying and get some more information. However, as soon as he approach, McGonagall stopped talking and turned to him.

"Yes, Mr. Potter, what can I do for you?" she asked.

"I was just wondering what you could tell me," Harry said. "What's going on and what are you doing next?"

McGonagall made room for him to stand at the table and cleared her throat. "Well, my main concern right now is the school. Despite the celebrations, we lost many witches and wizards, and a good number of them were our students. I have to inform the parents, as well as make sure the school is safe for the rest of us here. Meaning repairing any damage and sweeping the grounds for any Death Eaters who might be hiding out here."

"You think they would be?" Harry asked.

"Yes, I do. They're leaderless, and I believe they don't quite know what to do and where to go."

"And the Ministry?"

Kingsley answered that one. "After things died down last night, Scrimgeour took most of the Aurors, as well as any volunteers, to secure the Minstry building. They met little resistance."

"Do we have the list of names killed in that fighting?" McGonagall asked Kingsley. The Auror started shuffling through parchments, while the Headmistress turned back to Harry. "You'll have to forgive me if I sound crass, but this is a very delicate time for us. Without the proper structure of our government, or school, we risk discovery by Muggles, or worse. We can't afford to emotional right now."

Harry simply nodded. "By the way Potter," McGonagall added, "I would like to see you in my office this evening, if you don't mind." Harry nodded again.

He was about to ask why when the door at the opposite end of the room and in stepped one of the last people Harry expected to see: Severus Snape.

The sight of him made Harry's blood boil, and he reached for his wand. "What are you doing here?" Harry asked icily. Ron and Hermione had similar reactions, as did some of the others, but McGonagall seemed calm.

"Please, Mr. Potter, be polite," she said.

Harry couldn't believe it. He had just finally made up his mind that Snape had been favouring Voldemort the whole time, no matter what he had discovered previously. Despite whatever help the spy had given Harry over the past months, too many things still didn't add up.

"Severus and I had a long talk this morning," McGonagall told him. "Along with Dumbledore. He's given us quite a bit of information that will help us in the coming months."

"And that exonerates him?" Harry asked incredulously, earning a sneer from Snape.

"Dumbledore spoke with me for some length on Severus' loyalties," McGonagall said calmly, "and has convinced me Severus has been on our side all along."

Harry didn't believe it. He knew how good Snape was at weaseling out of blame, and would certainly like to know what Dumbledore had said. "What sob-story did he try to use this time?"

Snape, who was standing beside them now, snorted. "I don't have to explain myself to you, Potter." With one last glare, he turned his head from Harry back to McGonagall. "Headmistress, I'm returning to my home. At least until you speak with the Minister. You will know how to reach me." He then gave a curt nod and turned to leave.

Harry's ears were buzzing. He didn't know what had been said up in McGonagall's office, but he couldn't imagine what could have changed her mind, or what had kept Dumbledore convinced for so long. And whatever it was, Harry couldn't see how it would excuse Snape from all his other actions. He felt his face flush with anger.

Snape had only made it halfway to the door when Harry couldn't hold back any more. "Fuck you, Snape!" he shouted.

Everyone in the room stopped what they were doing, and Mrs. Weasley gasped loudly. No one had ever heard Harry say something like that, but Harry didn't care. Snape had frozen in mid-stride. After a moment, he turned and looked at Harry, his face impassive.

Harry went on. "I don't care what you told them, you're nothing but a coward." Harry knew Snape wouldn't appreciate hearing that, and the other man's jaw clenched tightly. "You just hid in the shadows the whole time, and then when one side won, found a way to pretend you were with them all along."

"Mr. Potter, please," McGonagall tried to stop him.

"No, don't. Forget what he said, it doesn't change all the things he's done, and all the people he's surely killed," Harry said to McGonagall, though still looking at Snape. "And that includes my parents."

"I did no such—" Snape started, but Harry cut him off.

"You as good as did!" Harry shouted again. "You knew who the prophecy referred to before you told Voldemort. And you still did. Just to save your own skin."

Harry didn't know what he expected, but he knew he had to say what he did. But what did happen was the one thing Harry didn't expect: Snape faltered. In fact, he almost seemed at a loss for words. The man who was always so calm and collected looked back and forth between Harry, and a spot on the floor. Eventually though, he spoke up. "I did know," he said, softly. "I knew who it meant. Though I didn't know how the Dark Lord would take it. I thought it would scare him… make him withdraw. I didn't know he would go after your parents."

This side of Snape almost frightened Harry. He could see more emotion than he ever thought possible in those cold, black eyes. But what was it? Sorrow? Surely not. Regret? Possibly.

"I tried to talk the Dark Lord out of it, to make him see the danger," Snape went on. "Your father, no matter how much I despised him, and no matter how much I hate to admit it, did save my life, whatever the circumstances. And your mother… she was the only one that was every civil to me." As Snape spoke, he no longer looked the imposing figure Harry always knew him as. For the first time ever, he looked human. "When the Dark Lord left, I couldn't follow, because of the Charm. By the time it had broken, and I arrived at the house, it was too late."

Harry was speechless. Minutes passed by with complete stillness in the entire room. And for the first time ever, Harry could see past Snape's eyes. He could see the other man was telling the truth. And that even though he still hated Harry's dad, and Harry himself, there was a time when Snape _had_ made a choice. And he had made the right one.

"I… didn't know," Harry finally said.

.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.

Snape didn't hang around very long after making such a personal and startling revelation to the large group of people. He was gone with after another nod to McGonagall, and then, surprisingly, to Harry.

Harry didn't stay either. After apologising and excusing himself, he left the room and went for a walk, hoping to wrap his head around what he had just heard.

Surely that was it then. That was the answer to everything. It was the reason Dumbledore trusted him unwaveringly. And it was the reason for how poorly Snape had treated Harry, while still doing his best to protect him.

Harry could finally understand the mystery to it all. It made perfect sense, when he thought about it. Of course Dumbledore couldn't tell Harry the real reason. With a link to Voldemort's mind, Harry could potentially have his thoughts sifted through at any time. With Snape's precarious position as a double agent, he had to make sure Voldemort believed him loyal to himself. Any information contradicting that would jeopardise Snape's life. And anything in Harry's mind wasn't safe.

Harry continued to let his feet carry him down the hall. He supposed it was nice to finally know the truth. It certainly changed his perspective of Snape, to an extent. Harry doubted seriously this would bring them together as best friends, but he at least gained respect for the Potions Master. He now knew why Snape reacted the way he did to Harry's taunts after killing Dumbledore. Snape was anything but a coward.

Lost in his thoughts, Harry just barely noticed a glint of light as he passed through the Entrance Hall. It made him pause and turn his head toward the doors, which were wide open. Down the stairs and just outside, leaning against the rail on the steps was the second person he least expected to see.

Harry hurried down the stairs. "Well, well, well… that was some show you put on last night, Potter," Draco Malfoy stated with a slight smirk. Sunlight shined brightly off his platinum blond hair.

Harry stood against the door opposite Malfoy. He still couldn't figure out his old rival, but after what happened with Snape, he was certainly open-minded about a lot of things. "I could say the same to you," Harry said. "Ron and Hermione told me about your heroics."

Malfoy scoffed, looking down at the grounds. "Heroics…" he repeated. "You make it sound like I was there to help you out." Harry raised his eyebrows at this, and Malfoy went on, "I was just doing what needed to be done. Regardless of what you may think."

For the first time, Harry noticed a small bag at Malfoy's feet. Apparently he wasn't sticking around. "Where will you go?" Harry asked.

"Away from here. There's nothing left here for me," Malfoy told him. "Anyway, I'm a wanted man, aren't I?"

"But you could stay, I'm sure McGonagall and the others would help you out."

Malfoy smirked again. "Second chances, right?" He stooped down to pick up his bag. Slinging it over his shoulder, he looked back at Harry, his cold, grey eyes meeting Harry's green ones. "Don't waste your time on me, Potter. I'm not worth saving."

With that, he hefted the bag up and started down the steps. Harry knew he wouldn't likely ever see the other again. Still… "Draco," Harry called to him when Malfoy had made it down to the lawn. He stopped and turned his head. He looked about as surprised as Harry felt, at the use of Malfoy's given name. "If you ever need help, you know where to go."

Malfoy gave him a meaningful look, then, with a sharp nod of his head, turned and walked toward the gates.

Harry stood there watching him until he was out of sight. Malfoy had changed so much in the past year. In a way, he could see reflections of his own life in the Slytherin's. After all, they had both lost there father figure, and were forced to become adults. And Harry couldn't help but notice Malfoy had matured so much more than himself. In any case, all their previous squabbling seemed so childish and meaningless now.

Harry continued to look out onto the grounds for a few minutes longer, before he started walking down the steps. He wasn't sure where he was headed, but he knew he didn't want to simply stand around. He made it to the lawn and continued across the soft grass. It was something about being up and moving around that made him realise how lucky he was to be alive.

The damages to the castle were mostly fixed by now. There wasn't all that much to speak of, besides some holes along the outer walls. But repairing that was much more complicated than flicking a wand at it. Mostly because of the nature of Hogwarts itself, and the complexities of the magic it held. The lawn was set right easily enough, as were parts of the forest that had been blasted and burned.

Harry was at the edge of the lake now, and began to take the familiar path around the perimeter. It was odd how things he had done so many times before in the past years seemed so different now that Voldemort was gone. It was like waking up from a long dream… he was finally able to enjoy life without worry… without fear. He was finally able to live.

He saw another glint of light in the corner of his eye. He turned his head slightly to see he was near Dumbledore's tomb by the lakeside. The setting sun was shining brightly of the white marble.

Harry walked over and rested his hand on the smooth stone. His thoughts immediately turned to his old headmaster. All Harry could think about was how much his wished Dumbledore was still alive. No one deserved to see Voldemort defeated more than him. And there was still so much he wanted to say to the old man. Sure, he could always talk to the portrait in the Head's office, but it would never be the same.

Standing there, beside Dumbledore's tomb, gave Harry a sensation he had never felt before. With Voldemort gone forever, he could feel that all the horrors of his childhood had come to an end. Despite, in the back of his mind, still wanting to be a normal kid with normal problems, he knew he had finally grown up. It was like a brand new life for him.

He looked down at the stone again. If this was a fresh start, there were still a few things he wanted to take care of.

"Fawkes?" Harry asked aloud, somewhat curious to see what would happen.

A split-second later, there was a flash above him, and Harry looked up to see the beautiful phoenix, hovering serenely over himself and Dumbledore. The bird looked down at Harry, and while Harry was no expert at avian expressions, it almost seemed like Fawkes knew exactly why he was called.

Harry drew his holly-and-phoenix-feather wand, and gave it a long look. After a minute though, he tossed it up in the air. "Get rid of this for me, will you?" Harry said. "Too many bad memories."

Fawkes caught the wand deftly in his talons. A moment later, there was a burst a flames, and then nothing but ashes flittering down to the ground. The wind picked up, and Harry couldn't see anything else. "Thanks," Harry said.

Fawkes let out a soft trilling note, lifting Harry's spirits back up. But when he was done, he disappeared, in a final flash of fire, leaving only his song behind. The note took a more somber tone, and Harry let out a sigh. He didn't know how, but he knew the phoenix was gone forever.

.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.

Harry sighed again, as he reached for the large griffin knocker on the door to McGonagall's office. He had come back up to meet with her, like she had asked, though he really didn't want to. While it had only just turned dark, and Harry had gotten quite a bit of sleep the night before, he was already exhausted. Hopefully it wouldn't be long.

He knocked sharply. In any case, he had brought Ron and Hermione along for company. Harry pushed the door open and entered.

The room was quite busy, despite their being only one occupant. McGonagall was seated behind her large desk, surrounded by stacks of parchment several feet high, while scribbling furiously on the piece right in front of her. All around circular room, the portraits of former Heads were coming into there frames only to call out bits of information, before vanishing again. Dumbledore was temporarily absent.

McGonagall looked up and set her quill down as Harry approached her desk. "Mr. Potter, thank you for coming. I apologise for this mess," she said, but Harry waved it off. "Please, have a seat."

Harry took the offered seat, next to Ron and Hermione. "How are things faring?"

"About the same," the headmistress told them. "Things at the Ministry are almost back to normal. The Aurors, along with some of the Order, are off trying to round up the remaining Death Eaters."

"That's encouraging," Harry said. "What will become of the Order? Once this is all sorted out?"

McGonagall sat back in her chair slightly. "The Order of the Phoenix was created by Dumbledore, for the sole purpose of combating Lord Voldemort. According to you, we need not worry about him ever again." Harry nodded. "Then, we have served our purpose. There will be no more need for the Order of the Phoenix, and it will disband."

Harry thought that might be the case, though he didn't want to believe it. Apparently he didn't hide his reaction well enough. "Don't look down, Harry," McGonagall told him. "We don't need to be part of an organisation like that to still fight evil. Or to still be friends. Rest assured, Remus, Kingsley, Tonks, and the others will still be around. The latter two more than the rest, if you still wish to become an Auror." Harry looked thoughtfully at this.

Before he could say something else though, an owl flew through the window and dropped a scroll on the desk in front of them. McGonagall hurriedly unrolled it and read it with a frown. "Would you please excuse me for a moment?" she asked, grabbing a fresh piece of parchment. Forgive me, but I really need to handle this right away." The three understood, and nodded.

"In the mean time," McGonagall went on, "I believe there is someone who wanted a word with you." She gestured to the portrait directly above her.

Dumbledore was sitting there, positively beaming at Harry. He hadn't seen the other man return to his frame, but that didn't matter. "Harry… Minerva has told me everything that's happened. You have no idea how proud I am of you."

Harry smiled at this, and picked himself up slightly in his chair. "Thank you, sir. But I couldn't have done it without all of your help."

Dumbledore smiled back. "Please, Harry, the bravery you have shown your whole life, and the powers you have… of those things, even I am jealous."

Harry wasn't sure how serious Dumbledore was, but he was touched nonetheless. "Minerva also told me what happened earlier today," Dumbeldore went on. "I am sorry for keeping Severus' secrets from you, but I hope you understand why."

Harry nodded. "I do, sir. And I don't hold it against you. It was to protect his life, more than anything. I should have trusted you."

"Harry, you had a right to know," Dumbledore told him. "And you were well within your rights not to trust me on that, or trust Severus at all. Given his history with you, and with your father and Sirius."

"Well, it doesn't matter much now," Harry said, not needing to say any more about the matter.

"Perhaps," Dumbledore said. "Now, I'm terribly sorry, but there are still many things to do, and the Headmistress needs me elsewhere. So, please forgive me, but I must be off to the Minister's office."

Harry nodded politely. Dumbledore smiled at him again, his eyes twinkling brightly, and then left. Harry wished he could have talked more with him, but he understood. These were still hectic times.

McGonagall finished not long after, and set her quill down again. "I apologise again," she told them, "but those papers really did need to be sent out." She waved her wand and sent a tray of teacups over from the side of the room. "Now, the reason I asked you here. And I'm glad you brought Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger along with you."

Harry looked over at his friends, who both frowned. "Well, after what you told us last night before we left Grimmalud Place… I got the impression that was merely the 'short' version of the story. In any case, your actions last night, as well as throughout the entire year, and surely even further back than that, have been…. Well, forgive me, but I can't quite find the superlative to describe them." McGonagall was beaming at them now. "You have done the wizarding world so much, and that includes what you have done for this school as well. Therefore, because of your actions, I will be awarding each of you a Special Award for Services to the School. It may not seem like much, but it's the highest honour Hogwarts has."

Harry wasn't expecting that. "It's brilliant, really," he told McGonagall, "though I can think of some that deserve it as well. Some that deserve it more than me." Ron and Hermione, however, seemed to hold the award in higher regard, and looked quite surprised.

"Rest assured, Mr. Potter, that you three will not be the only recipients," McGonagall told him. "With Mr. Weasley in Miss Granger's version of the events the past few days, there are several more that will receive this honour." This made Harry feel better.

"There was one more thing I needed to give you, Mr. Potter," McGonagall told him. She reached into the drawer of her desk and pulled out a small, blue case. She handed it to Harry, who wasn't expecting anything else, and frowned slightly at her.

Harry took the case and opened it. Inside was a shining silver badge that read "Head Boy." Harry's eyes widened slightly. He certainly hadn't imagined this.

"It's about time you finally got that," Ron said from beside him, snapping Harry out of his thoughts.

"Was this… I mean, is this Anthony's badge?" Harry asked after a moment.

"No, all of Mr. Goldstein's possessions were sent to his family," McGonagall told him. "This belonged to Dumbledore." Harry looked up at her, this time struggling to keep the shock off his face. "I believe he wanted this one to be the one you kept for the rest of your life."

Harry nodded. He didn't really know what to say.

"Now, I know there only a couple months left of the term, but this is something you deserved for some time now," McGonagall told him, her eyes shining slightly, but still smiling softly. "In any case, this is more of a formality. After all, you've been the protector of this school and its students since the first day you came here."

.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.


	25. All We Need of Hell

**Chapter 25**

**All We Need of Hell**

The next morning, Harry felt more rested and refreshed than he had ever been. Or, at least, as best he could remember. He was still sporting a gruesome-looking bruise on his chest, but considering the alternative, he didn't mind too much. He carefully got up and dressed.

McGonagall had decided to cancel class for the week, which was a nice surprise, considering it was only Tuesday. Hermione had been a little upset, but given the circumstances, the staff wasn't exactly prepared to start teaching again. In any case, everyone deserved some time off to grieve and to celebrate.

Harry left his room and made his way down to the Great Hall. McGonagall had told him the previous night that Scrimgeour would be coming by, and had asked to see Harry. He wasn't sure why, but he figured it was for the same reason everyone else wanted to see him. And that meant 'everyone'. Just last night alone, he received seventy-eight owls, all of them fan mail. People from all over the country had sent him letters, saying they had heard what happened, and thanking him for what he had done. Some had also sent him money, and others had sent all sorts of gifts. Harry had briefly considered placing an Untraceable Charm on himself so the owls would stop coming, but he decided, annoying as it was, no one was doing anything wrong. And, he had to admit, he did deserve at least some of the credit for defeating Voldemort.

Harry made it to the Great Hall, but when he peeked inside, there was no sign of the Minister, or McGonagall. Wondering if he should go up to the Head's office, he caught a glimpse of the aging man's mane of grey hair out on the grounds. Harry rushed down the stairs to catch up with him. Hopefully he was on his way back, and wouldn't spend much time with Harry.

When Harry reached him, he looked quite happy, which was more emotion than Harry had ever seen him show. Scrimgeour wringed Harry's hand tightly for several seconds. After the formalities, Scrimgeour started walking down the lawn, and beckoned Harry to follow. Apparently there was more on his mind.

"You're a hero, Harry," Scrimgeour stated simply. "That's all it is. You've done the country, and, in fact, the world, a tremendous service. We all owe you so much."

"Maybe that means I'll go into the history books for something I actually did," Harry said dryly.

Scrimgeour chuckled slightly, but hesitated, not knowing how serious Harry was. "Yes, well… I know you and I have had our differences in the past, and I'm sorry for that. But I hope we can put that behind us." He paused for a moment. "Your Headmistress has told me you wish to become an Auror, no? Rest assured, you will have no problems getting in, or completing the program. And I would be more than happy to give you a recommendation."

Harry wasn't surprised to hear the other man pandering to him. "Thank you, sir. I do appreciate that, but I'm not sure if I'm still interested in that as a career."

The Minister looked surprised, but hid it quickly. "Well, I do hope you change your mind. We have lost a lot of people, and we're in a process of rebuilding. We could certainly use someone of your character."

"I'll keep that in mind."

Scrimgeour nodded. "Now, the other reason I wanted to see you. Because of your actions in recent days, the Ministry has seen fit to present you with the Order of Merlin, First Class."

This did shock Harry quite a bit. After the meeting with McGonagall the night before, he the idea of getting another award from the Ministry was in his mind, but certainly not this one. It wasn't something you could get just from making donations, either. "Are you serious?" Harry asked.

"Oh, of course. Can't think of a more worthy recipient than you. The vote was taken at the Ministry yesterday, and was unanimous, obviously. If even half of the rumours I've heard are true, you deserve at least two. Your friends, Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger, will receive awards as well. Second class, for them." Scrimgeour stopped walking when he reached the front gates. "Now, because of all the secrecy of what went on (and I understand why it had to be so) you know best what everyone else took part in. If you have any recommendations, I would very much like to hear them."

Harry came to a halt as well, and thought about it. One name came to mind immediately. "Yeah, there is one. Ginny Weasley," he said. "She stood up to Voldemort, knowing she wouldn't survive, just so the three of us could escape." Harry didn't feel it was necessary to say any more than that, and he didn't want to think about it much more.

"I hadn't heard about that," Scrimgeour said solemnly. "Such bravery isn't found often enough these days. Tragic, of course, but she deserves to be remembered."

Harry nodded.

"Well, Mr. Potter, I believe I've taken up too much of your time, and there is still much to do," Scrimgeour said. "So if you would excuse me. You'll be hearing from us before too long."

Scrimgeour turned to leave, but Harry remembered something, and stopped him. "Oh, Minister, one more thing." He pulled a folded piece of parchment from his pocket and handed it to the other man. "I thought this might interest you."

Scrimgeour opened it up and read what had been written. "What is this?" he asked.

"Just go there, and you'll find a cave on the cliff wall," Harry told him. "Be sure to bring some help along. And, uh… fire. Bring plenty of fire," Harry added with a wink.

Scrimgeour's eyes widened in realisation. "Will do, Mr. Potter. We'll take care of this right away." With that, he headed out the gates and down the path to Hogsmeade.

.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.

That afternoon was much more somber than the day before. The celebrations were put on hold while there was a memorial service for all the ones killed in the battle. It was held by the lake, near where Dumbledore's funeral was.

Harry, Hermione and Ron sat together near the front. It was hard, listening to all the names. Harry tried hard to convince himself that they had died for a good cause. Not that many students had been killed, save for Ginny, and the five that died at the Ministry. Each of them had given their lives to save their classmates. Scrimgeour was right, that kind of bravery wasn't found enough these days.

Afterwards, there was a separate service, just for Ginny. It was on a different part of the grounds, opposite the lake. Compared to the other, it was much smaller. Only the Weasleys, Harry, Hermione, a few Order members, and a few professors were there.

One person that everyone was shocked to see show up was Percy. He hadn't spoken with anyone in the family in over a year, but walked up halfway through the service, in tears. He didn't say a word to anyone, but hugged his mother and father, and then took a seat at the back

Several people got up to speak, but Harry remained seated. Some others looked at him, maybe expecting him to say something, but he knew he couldn't. Save for the few minutes after they escaped from Hogwarts the other night, Harry hadn't let himself think about Ginny. He knew that if he was to dwell on Ginny, or anyone else he had lost, he wouldn't have been able to defeat Voldemort. Now that was over with, things were starting to catch up with him.

He felt himself overwhelmed with emotion. One of his best friends was gone. Harry had lost many friends, and family, in recent years, but that didn't make it any easier when it happened again. He felt himself start to choke up, but he fought it back. He knew it was all right to be sad, but he didn't want his memory of Ginny to be so tragic. Her sacrifice to save Harry's life, foolish as it was, was one of the most heroic things Harry had ever experienced. He allowed himself a small smile.

Beside him, Hermione was already in tears, and Ron looked close. Harry reached over and squeezed Hermione's hand comfortingly. She didn't look over, but Harry could feel her lift up slightly.

It wasn't much longer before the service ended. Many of the group rose to leave, while a handful remained seated. Ron and Hermione made no move to get up. Harry, on the other hand, stood and started to walk away from the crowd.

He understood people continuing to stay there, but Harry felt no need. He had made his peace with it, and he knew if he stayed with his thoughts longer, he would only dwell on how much he would miss Ginny. His friend wouldn't have wanted that. She would have wanted him to move on with his life. And if he did think about her, only remember the good times.

Harry made his way away from the crowd, not wanting to get caught up in another discussion. His plan failed though, and he heard his name called out before he could stray too far. Harry looked over to see Mr. Weasley approaching him. He looked weary, but his eyes weren't red as Harry would have expected.

"I don't think I thanked you personally yet," Arthur said when he caught up with Harry. "For what you did the other night."

"There's no need, sir," Harry told him. "I was just doing what I needed to. If anything, I should thank you. I wouldn't have been able to do what I did without Ginny." Arthur gave him a sad smile. "I'm guessing Ron told you exactly what they did."

"Yes, I heard all about that," Mr. Weasley said. He didn't seem as angry as Harry would have expected. "Not really something Molly and I would have allowed, had we known. Being such a dangerous kind of Magic. But I suppose I can get mad at their methods." He placed his hand on Harry's shoulder. "You have no idea how lucky you are, Harry. To have five friends who would do something like that… most people don't even have one."

Harry nodded. "Don't ever forget that, Harry," Mr. Weasley continued. "And don't just remember Ginny. Because even though she was the one that died, Ron and the others would have if they needed to. And even though the Vow is broken, those feelings will last forever."

Harry realised exactly what he meant. And even though Harry would make sure things never got that bad again, he knew that if they did, he had friends he could rely on for anything. Though…. He looked down at his feet, and said, "I'm sorry though, that it had to be Ginny. I couldn't keep the promise I made at Christmas."

"Harry, please," Mr. Weasley said, putting his other hand on Harry's other shoulder, and forcing Harry to look back up. "Do you think I blame you for what happened? Do you think I wish it was one of your other friends? Believe me, I've tried being angry, but I can't. All I feel is how proud I am of what my daughter did. And how amazed I am at her bravery."

Harry agreed. He felt a little better at hearing this. Mr. Weasley seemed to tell, and patted him on the back. "Good," he said to Harry. "Now, I need to go and check on Molly." Harry nodded, and allowed Mr. Weasley to turn and go.

.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.

"I guess it's about time for me to go back home."

Harry didn't look surprised to hear this. He had been walking the grounds with Remus for a few minutes now. The answer to Harry's previous question was about what he expected. He was going to have to try harder to get any more information out.

"By yourself?" Harry asked innocently.

Remus, however, saw right through that. "Whatever could you mean?" he asked with a knowing smile.

"You know exactly what I mean," Harry told him. "The way I see it, you don't have any more excuses. The fighting is over, so it looks like you'll be around for a while." He looked away from Lupin and added, "Besides… you deserve to be happy."

Remus looked back at Harry. "You think so? Maybe you're right," he said coyly.

"You're hiding something from me, aren't you?" Harry asked.

"Just make sure you're in the country at the beginning of summer," Remus said, giving Harry a wink.

"All right, keep your secrets," Harry laughed.

.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.

Late in the afternoon was the first chance Harry had to relax.

His day up until this point had been surprisingly busy. He was continually hounded by Ministry officials and journalists looking to get a more detailed account of recent events. The former apparently needed it for whatever official files they were working on, while the latter wanted more articles to write. Neither option made Harry feel comfortable, so he gave them just enough so they would leave him alone.

On top of that, he saw off many of his friends who were still hanging around the castle. Some were old schoolmates and others were Order members (or, rather, former Order members). Harry wasn't sure when he would see them again, and wanted to make sure he thanked them for showing up and helping.

But now that the castle had settled down and there was a lull in Harry's owls, he snuck away from everyone with Ron and Hermione. They were sitting against their favorite tree down by the lake, looking out at the water and the sunlight sparkling off the surface. No one had spoken for several minutes, each enjoying the calmness and solitude.

"You're sure he's gone, Harry?" Ron asked, breaking the silence with a question Harry had heard from him a dozen times in the past two days.

"Yes, Ron," Harry said patiently. "I'm sure." He could understand why Ron kept asking. With what had already happened in Harry's lifetime, he knew many others around the country would be wondering the same thing. Some might even refuse to believe it.

"And you're sure the piece inside you is gone too?"

"Absolutely," Harry answered again. "I mean, I got hit with the Killing Curse, and it didn't kill _me_ so it must be. That, and I can't feel him in my scar. And I can't speak Parsletongue anymore. And I'm having a lot of trouble with my Occlumency." He looked over at his friend. "Is that enough evidence for you?" he asked, half-joking.

"Yeah, I guess," Ron said. "It's just… well, he came back once before, right?"

"Yes, but no one saw what happened that night. This time everyone saw him die. And I would have felt some part of him afterwards. And… there are… other ways I know. But trust me, he's gone for good." Saying it out loud certainly felt relieving.

"Yeah, you must be right," Ron finally conceded. "I'm just worried, you know. He was so strong."

"He was," Harry repeated. He sat back against the tree.

"How the mighty have fallen," Hermione spoke up. Harry looked over at her with raised eyebrows.

Ron was apparently thinking the same thing. "You're so lame," he said, and started laughing. Harry nodded in agreement.

"What?" Hermione asked, slightly peeved. "It seemed right."

"It's okay Hermione," Ron said. "We know how your brain gets a bit off when you aren't in school."

Hermione smacked him loudly on his arm. "Well then," she huffed, "let's go back and start studying."

"Don't even think about it," Harry told her. "We've earned a bit of a break."

"We'll have to get at it soon, though," Ron said dejectedly. "Think they'll drop some requirements for the Auror program? Seeing as they lost quite a few."

"It's possible," Hermione answered. "Of course, Harry shouldn't have any problems with that." She looked over at him.

"I'm not sure if I will though," Harry said. It was something he had been thinking about a lot recently. Ron and Hermione both gave him looks indicating they wanted an explanation. "Well, over the past year I've seen how poorly the Ministry operates. I'm not sure I want to be a part of that. Maybe if they make some major changes… either way, I think I've done plenty of that for my lifetime."

"No kidding," Ron agreed.

"So what would you do then, if not that?" Hermione asked.

Harry shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe try to play Quidditch. It's the one thing I've done where I felt like a normal kid."

"Really? Flying on a broomstick a hundred feet in the air, dodging cannonballs and trying to catch a walnut? That's the most normal you've felt?" Hermione asked.

"Oh, shut up," Harry told her. "You know what I mean." Hermione snickered at him. "Anyway… I think I'd also like to come back and teach at some point."

"I wouldn't mind that either," Ron said.

They sat in silence again, watching the lake and the clouds moving across the sky. It was a kind of tranquility Harry never thought possible. But then again, he was seeing a lot of that recently. Since Voldemort had gone, Harry was realising just how amazing the world really was.

"Harry?" Hermione spoke up after several minutes.

"Hmmm?"

"What was it you had left for me?" She asked. When Harry didn't know what she meant, she continued on, "The night before we came here and fought Voldemort. You said there were some things you wanted me to have. What were they?"

"Oh, that," Harry remembered. "Well, sometime during the year, I found some papers with some of my parents' old things. One of them was a deed to some property. In Australia, up the coast from Adelaide. Must have been a vacation home or something," he explained. "Anyway… I figured since you never got to go… over the summer. Well, I thought you might like it."

"Oh… Harry, I can't believe you'd think of me like that," Hermione said softly. She gazed at him with her warm, brown eyes, and Harry felt that familiar feeling in the pit of his stomach. The one he had, up until recently, tried so hard to ignore. "I wouldn't have been able to accept that."

"I guess it's a good thing I didn't die then, huh?" Harry joked. "Anyway, maybe we can all take a trip down there this summer and check it out." His friends agreed. Hermione then put her arm around his and laid her head on Harry's shoulder. Harry didn't mind at all.

Ron however, raised an eyebrow at him. He looked back and forth between Harry and Hermione, and then nodded his head expectantly, asking the question Harry knew he would. Harry answered with a shrug. It was honest enough, as he really wasn't sure. Ron gave him a knowing grin.

The three of them continued sitting there, in silence again. They watched as the sun began to set above the lake, and the water glistened like millions of gems. Harry rested his head on Hermione's and relaxed even more.

Eventually, he began to think about all the ones he had lost in his lifetime. He thought about his parents, of course, and how he hoped they knew Voldemort was gone. And then he thought of Cedric, and of Sirius and Dumbledore. And all his friends that had passed. He wondered where they were now, and how peaceful they must be, away from the horrors humanity was capable of.

And then he thought of Ginny. He knew if he went to the Department of Mysteries, into the Death Chamber, he would hear one more voice calling to him from beyond the veil. And he would see her again. He would see all of them.

But for now, he had the rest of his life to live.

THE END

.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.

A/N – Done. Finally. I can't even remember when I had planned for this to be finished, but it certainly wasn't this late. And it is finished. No epilogue or anything. Anyway, I think it turned out pretty well. Obviously not a suitable replacement to DH as an end to the series, but I still like it. I'd definitely like to thank everyone who read it, and enjoyed it, and reviewed. Especially those that stuck with it from the beginning, and were patient with me. So, I got a couple ideas for other stories in the process of writing this, and I think I may start on them soon. Since I've been writing. So keep an eye out, if you want. And thanks again for reading.

-wt


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